


We're Still Breathing

by AzulDemon



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Batfamily Feels, Batfamily relationship dynamics, Canon Compliant at first, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Conner's got a list, F/M, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Identity Issues, Leviathan - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pre-New 52, Sexual Identity, and then not so much, pre-rebirth era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8898985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulDemon/pseuds/AzulDemon
Summary: Part I:Thinking about it, Tim supposed he had probably always been in love with Conner. The data was there if he took the time to look—if he was actually honest with himself.In which Tim confesses his true feelings to Conner. Conner has a lot to think about. Things fundamentally change for these two long-time best friends. And it turns out Conner might just be the partner we all need.Part II:Things have been different for Tim and Conner ever since Tim’s confession.  To top all that off, Bruce Wayne is back from the dead…(or the past?) and he’s turned Gotham on its head with the creation of Batman Incorporated.  All the while a sinister threat brews below the surface of city, growing and plotting.  What is Leviathan and what is its plan?  Can the Batfamily come together in time?  What the hell has Conner gotten himself into?





	1. Confessions of a Teenage Vigilante

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a one-shot but I loved writing these two so much that it has now become a work-in-progress. I have a vague idea of where this is all going so expect more plot, coming out angst, and sexual identity issues. Thus, if any of those are triggers for you be warned. 
> 
> I love these two so much and I am still morning the loss of them (even if they remained platonic) since the whole New 52 snafu. It seriously does not help that Conner is nowhere to be seen in Rebirth. So this, as it turns out, is my grieving process.
> 
> Did my best to keep things cannon compliant up to a very specific point (then it's off the rails!) so if I made any major offenses please let me know and I will do my best to correct it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, I do not own these characters or the universe they live in. They belong to DC. I am just doing this for fun and writing practice. Kudos, comments, and criticism of the constructive variety are always welcome.

Thinking about it, Tim supposed he had probably always been in love with Conner. The data was there if he took the time to look—if he was actually honest with himself. Conner’s death had hit him hard, like, really hard. He had changed the entire color scheme of his costume to model it after Conner’s. Tim hadn’t gone and changed his costume to purple and black after Steph’s ~~death~~ fake death, and he had been _dating_ Steph, he had loved Steph. For god's sake, he had started a cloning program to create another Conner like, some grief-crazed, adolescent version of Lex Luthor or something. Shit, even his kiss with Cassie had been a way to bring himself closer to Conner in some emotionally dysfunctional way.

Because that's how the “Batman” did it. Don't talk about things, try and pretend that you're not human anymore and some kind of symbolic embodiment of justice. Then, when the human inside of you is basically eating you from the inside out, make some emotionally reactive decision that you'll likely regret later. Then walk away from it like it never happened and be cold and broody.

_Great job, Drake..._

He had been trying to avoid that kind of behavior since he'd encountered his future-self, way back when, with the Titans. He had been doing a pretty stand up job in fact, until his life went to total shit and the people he cared about most had been taken from him. Until his very identity had been stolen out from under him by a psychopathic, little demon spawn. In his drive to get answers and develop a new identity Tim had started doing the things he had always feared would turn him into the murdering Dark-Knight-of-Future-Past.

So here he was now, trying to fix that, which led to the present line of rumination.

Love. It was love. Tim knew what love was. He’d been in love before. He knew what it felt like. Unlike his mentor, Tim did acknowledge his emotions. He felt them. He might set them aside and label and categorize them to a slightly compulsive level, but he felt them and that was pretty functional as the Batfamily went (well, with the exception of Dick, but he had a whole different set of issues). So he knew what he was feeling, even if it was more intense than previous cases he recalled. It wasn’t until now, when he had decided to begin picking up the shredded threads of his life back in Gotham, as he reconciled who he was now and who he had been before Bruce’s disappearance, that he began recognize it for what it was.

Now it made sense why the mere prospect of seeing Conner had him grinning like an idiot. Now it made sense why all he could think about was explaining everything to him. He wanted to tell him why he had been so ridiculously cavalier with his return from the dead...or the future—whatever. It was the first thing he wanted to do even when he needed to be sharing his evidence about Bruce and organizing his rescue.

It was a decidedly bad time to finally realize he was achingly, ass-over-head in love with his best friend.

He had even begun to foolishly entertain the thought that Conner could possibly— _maybe—_ feel the same. After all, Conner did know Tim’s voice so well that he had learned his secret identity and tracked him down at his home in Gotham.

He constantly broke Batman’s “no meta’s in Gotham” rule just to hang out with him.

He was the only one who believed him when he expressed his belief that Bruce was still alive (well…and Ra’s. But that _did not_ count). He had been the only one to actually _listen_ to him and not assume he was grief-crazed. He hadn't even questioned Tim. There wasn't an instants hesitation. He just believed in him. He’d been the only one who’d understood what Tim had needed in that moment.  

And Tim knew that he only had to call out and Conner would hear him and be there.

Conner felt like the most significant and sure thing in his life, which could account for how Tim had somehow managed to stumble over the line of friendship and into full-on romantic fixation somewhere along the way.

Despite the obvious intensity of their relationship, there was still insufficient data to make a firm conclusion about Conner's feelings toward Tim. Conner had only ever expressed attraction to females—sometimes in the most asinine way. What was more, all of the above behaviors could simply be the result of a very close friendship, one forged by the extremes of the lives they lived, brothers-in-arms. There was also their friendship to consider. They were best friends. This had the potential to destroy one of the single most significant relationships in his life…or turn it into something that could be even better…

The thought that it could perhaps be possible that Conner would return Tim's feelings was a tempting despite the risks, one he could not help but entertain. It had resulted in some of the most juvenile and maudlin reveries Tim had ever engaged in. He was about a hormone away from doodling _Mr. Conner Drake_ (or would that be _Conner Wayne? Conner Kent-Drake?)_ in the margins of his notebooks surrounded by hearts. It was utterly ridiculous.  

It was that very sort of daydream that Tim was engaged in when Conner decided to find him, inquiring about Tim’s stupid grin and making some quip about leather sales and matching chaps. Krypto was with him, flying a few paces behind his master, tail wagging happily.

Conner's smile was wide and dazzling, his inhumanly cobalt eyes were shimmering with laughter, and he was _alive_! He wasn’t a figment of Tim’s wishful delusions, he was _right_ there. He was handsome and breathing and _there._ And Tim loved him so much it felt as though Bane had somehow managed to take Tim's heart and grip it in his venomed-out fist. He couldn't breathe. He just gaped at the superhuman in paralytic silence while Conner waved a concerned hand in front of his face.

That was how he ended up throwing himself at Conner while the other young man's brows furrowed in concern, asking him to say something. That was how Tim ended up with one hand fisted in the front of Conner’s t-shirt, red S-shield crumpled in his fingers, while his other hand gripped the back of his neck. That’s how he ended up pressing his lips to Conner’s in perhaps the most impulsive, irrational thing Tim had done…and Tim had once agreed to a one-on-one fight with Lady Shiva.

It was inelegant, nothing more than a crush of two pairs of lips. One pair that was agonizingly stiff and unresponsive. It actually didn’t feel like much of a kiss at all. It was as if there was something between them. Like maybe Conner's TTK field was separating them, keeping him at bay. That brought Tim back to his senses, his rational brain catching up to what he had just done. Frosty tendrils of dread began to skid across his every nerve and up into his brain.

_Idiot! So stupid! Abort! Say something! Say it was mind control. Poison Ivy pollen. Anything!_

He pulled back abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet. He was thankful his cowl was still in place and hid some of the humiliation that he knew was flooding his face. Conner was frozen in place, eyes wide and blinking, jaw slack, and mouth gaping.

“S—sorry! I shouldn’t have—I'm so—”

He was cut off by Conner lunging at him, one big hand gripping the back of Tim’s neck while the other pressed hard into the small of his back. He pulled Tim in and brought their lips back together. This time Conner's lips were soft, softer than Tim had imagined the half-Kryptonian’s could ever be. Those soft lips opened slightly and pulled at Tim’s lower lip lightly, it felt shockingly insistent and hungry. Tim only faltered in his stunned disbelief for a moment before he threw himself into the kiss, one arm hooking around Conner's neck while the other coiled around his waist.

He was kissing Conner. Conner was kissing _him_! And Conner tasted like the apple he had probably just eaten. He smelled like fresh pine, hay, and mother fucking _sunshine_. What did sunshine even smell like? Tim didn't know, but he knew Conner smelled like it.  

Conner growled, a low sound filled with gravel and desire, his grip tightened and dragged Tim even closer to the solid, muscled wall of his chest. It sent a static tingle right down Tim's spine and into his crotch and he couldn’t stop the rock of his own hips, a motion that Conner mirrored. Then abruptly Conner pulled his face back, released his hold on Tim, and stumbled away a few paces.

“What was that?” He breathed, fingertips hovering over his mouth.

“You kissed me back…” Tim muttered in gawking disbelief.

Conner looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. “You…kissed me first…” his cheeks had gone a distractingly, adorable shade of pink.

Tim scrubbed his hands over his face roughly. “I _know!_ I’m sorry.” He felt like he might be sick.

“Why?”

 _Mind control. No! Go with Poison Ivy pollen_.

No. Tim was trying to be different. He had come back home and was working to be a better person. No more lies with the people he cared about most. He wasn’t Bruce. Honesty, he could do that. No big deal, right?

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I think…I think I might be in love with you…”

Conner went wide-eyed and began blinking long, slow blinks again. Tim was not sure he had ever seen him so quiet. He wished he would say something. It would stop Tim from rambling.

“And I think I just realized it, and you were _dead_ , and it basically destroyed me. And now you’re _alive_ —and right _here!_ And I just,” he flicked his hand between the two of them and shrugged helplessly. “Reacted…”

Conner tilted his head and there was a suggestion of a grin forming at the corners of his mouth. “Dude, I’ve _been_ alive. I though we covered that. You _knew_ that. Remember?”

That Conner was lightly teasing him and that there was even an iota of humor in his expression gave Tim some comfort, some reassurance he hadn’t just ruined everything between them. He wasn't sure he could live with himself knowing he had destroyed their friendship based on a stupid impulse. He had lived in a world without Conner and it was a dreary, dismal place. He couldn't go back.

“I know, but when you found me in Paris…I was in a bad place and everything happened so fast…” It was getting hard to breath and his cowl was suddenly restricting so he pulled it back off of his face. The cool rush of air against his skin was instantly relieving. “I was a bit…emotionally constipated? I didn’t let it all sink in.”

“And now?” Conner raised an eyebrow.

“I’m processing things…I’m in a better place…or getting there.”

“And in love with me?”

Tim ducked his head and let his hair veil his face, all at once wishing he hadn’t removed his cowl. He hated how much he was giving away in his expressions. He wasn't used to just broadcasting his emotions like this. “Yeah…”

“Okay…okay…I—uh—that’s cool…”

Tim looked up and his brows bunched together in confusion.

“You’re my best friend, Tim.” He gave him a serious look. “I love you too.”

Tim bit his lower lip. Despite his best efforts, those four words sparked a shuddering flare of hope in his chest, a match igniting in the dark.

“I just…don’t know if it’s in _that_ way.”

Tim felt that tiny flicker of hope fizzle and die and gave a faint nod.

Conner seemed to sense his despair and took a step forward and quickly continued. “And that kiss was good and I _did_ kiss you back—”

Eye's back on the floor Tim prompted: “But...”

“I don’t know if I, you know, like- _like_ dudes.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah…”

 _Of course.._.

“Do _you_ like- _like_ dudes?” Conner followed up. “I mean—that’s cool, it’s just you’ve only dated girls…as far as I know…”

“I’m not _opposed_ to it—obviously—but I’ve never actually been with—dated a guy or anything…” Tim felt like his face was on fire and knew he was likely as red as his costume. How had he let this happen?

Conner took a deep breath. “Alright, I think I need some time to…process…” he made an expansive gesture with the palms of his hands. “All this…we’re best friends, Tim. I don’t want to mess that up by making rash decisions.”

Tim felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

“Yeah, like ambushing your best friend with a rooftop kiss and love confession?”

“Hey,” Conner stepped into his space so close Tim could smell him again, feel the warmth radiating off of him. He gripped Tim's shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay, _we’re_ gonna be okay. No matter what.”

Tim forced himself to look up at Conner and smile, even though Conner's assurance just left him feeling pathetic. “Yeah, we will.” And somewhere deep inside he knew that was true, even if it was hard to hear that voice right now.

Conner gave his shoulder another lingering squeeze before he stepped back. “So, you being in a better place…does that mean you found something?”

Tim felt his face cool some in his relief at having a change in the subject. “Uh, let’s just say I’m working on it.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, I got some things to take care of and then…then I’ll be back.”

Conner nodded. “Cool, well I’m gonna go then and, you know, think about stuff.”

“Sure, of course.”

Conner lifted up into the sky, Krypto following him skyward. The superdog had been atypically reserved, apparently having sense enough to sit back and watch the humanoids make fools of themselves.

“And Tim,” Conner called. Tim looked up at him. “I'm glad your back. I've missed you—uh, we _all_ have.” He scratched at the side of his head a bit. “And you know, if you need me I’m always here. Just yell, I’ll hear you.”

Tim felt himself smile a genuine smile for the first time in this entire humiliating interaction. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Conner. Thanks for believing in me. For not hating me or making this weird.”

Conner smiled at him. “I could never hate you, Tim.” He waved as he flew up and away.

Tim watched him go and sighed.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He jerked his cowl back down into place over his face. He pulled a grappling gun from his belt and ran toward the nearest ledge and leapt off and into night. He could do with some flying himself.

 

# # #

 

Conner cruised over the rooftops of Gotham, flying at a more sedate pace than usual. He lowered his TTK aura, allowing the cool, late summer night air to wash over him. It soothed the flushing heat that radiated from under his skin. It felt eerily similar to when he absorbed too much solar energy and his body would try and vent the excess.

His mind was still reeling with all that had just happened. His lips still somehow felt like they were tingling from his kiss with Tim. That wasn’t possible, he knew that, but the illusion persisted nonetheless. He brought his fingers to his lips with the memory of it.

When he had picked up on Tim’s heartbeat and followed it to that rooftop that had been the last thing he would have expected to happen. Tim had kissed him. Tim had told him that he was in love with him.

It had all happened in a dizzying rush and Conner hadn’t had time to process how he felt. He had kissed Tim back when Tim had pulled away, but had that just been instinct? Conner had definitely always liked kissing, it was somewhere in the top three of his favorite things, and he’d done a _lot_ of kissing. Had he just kissed Tim because he liked kissing?

If that was the reason, he wished he hadn’t kissed Tim. Conner had played fast a loose with his affection in the past and it had resulted in something of a track record that was not exactly stellar. And goddamn it, Conner had matured. He'd come a long way from the angsty, roiling, tempest of hormones he had been when he'd first made it out of his Cadmus tank, too much power and teen and not enough lived experience. He was trying not to be so careless and haphazard. He was keeping lists for crying out loud! He had learned the hard way that there were other ways to hurt people outside of his superhuman abilities.

Tim deserved more than kissing for kissing’s sake. Tim deserved someone who appreciated him for all his neuroses and brilliance. Tim deserved someone who would love him as ferociously as Tim would love. Because despite all his well crafted, bat-freak reserve and compartmentalization, Conner knew that Tim felt deeply. He knew that Tim would love with an ardent intensity that would rival the fucking sun. That was just how Tim rolled. When he did something he did it at one hundred and ten percent. He deserved someone who could return that fervor. After everything Tim had been through, he deserved all that and more. Tim deserved the fucking world.

Conner would not be careless.

So he thought about his past with Tim, how they had butted heads when they met, but in almost no time at all Tim had become one of the most important people in the world to him. Part of Conner's hard fought for maturity was Tim's influence and Conner liked to think he had helped influence Tim in return. The guy could be the ultimate wet blanket and Conner felt that he'd taught him how to let loose a bit.

He thought he could maybe see the signs that Tim loved him now that he knew what to look for. He thought he could see how they’d gotten to this juncture in their relationship. His mind tumbled around in his skull with it all as he tried to parse out his own feelings for Tim. He let it all free fall into a tangled knot of memories, thoughts, and emotions hoping some kind of sense would eventually emerge.

It had always been obvious Tim cared deeply for him. It had been Tim who had organized and led the mission to infiltrate Lex Corp to find a cure when Conner’s body had turned against itself. Tim had tried to freaking _clone_ him when he thought he was dead. Conner knew when he had heard that he should have been angry or creeped out, but instead he had found it oddly endearing. Which was weird, he knew that. That probably said just as much about him as it did Tim. It probably did say something about _them…_

Conner trusted Tim more than anyone. It had been Tim that Conner went to when he learned about his genetic link to Luthor. Tim had kept his secret, even from Bart and Cassie. When Conner lost control and hurt Tim—broke his damn arm—Tim didn't hold it against him, not even for an instant. Tim knew Conner. He trusted Conner implicitly. Tim didn’t give a shit about his genetic heritage. They had always confided in one another, kept each other’s secrets…

Conner hadn’t lied when he said he loved Tim too. He knew Tim’s voice better than just about anyone’s. That had been how he had tracked him down when he’d attempted to retire from superheroing and learned his true identity. Because being a superhero felt diminished somehow without Tim…

And so maybe he had memorized the pattern of Tim’s heartbeat so well he could pick it up from cities away. So what? That was totally normal for best friends, right?

And Conner did like that he was one of the only people who could make Tim smile that small, _real_ smile. He liked that he could read Tim when Tim was an enigma to pretty much everyone. Tim couldn't fool him with his blank faces and fake smiles. He understood Tim. Even the other Bat's couldn't necessarily make that claim. That was why he’d kept his distance and didn’t push when they’d met up in Paris. Even when he wanted to grab the angsty little freak and hug him so he could fall apart and cry it out like a real person. But Tim had needed space. He hadn’t been ready. So Conner had let him have what he needed, didn’t push too hard and offered as much support as he thought Tim would accept…

And man, did Conner hate that Tim wasn't Robin anymore. He refused to think of that angry punk as his replacement. Tim was _his_ Robin. That would never change no matter who else wore the costume and assumed the name, no matter what Time called himself….

And Tim was definitely ripped, and Conner could appreciate a guy who kept himself in shape….

But Tim was a _dude!_ A dude with hair that he’d let grow out too long…but _did_ frame his face and bring out his dark-blue eyes. Plus, it made him look younger and less dour than that stupid cowl did….  

…And, yeah, so _maybe_ that time Conner had seen Tim sleeping in one of his Superboy t-shirts it had left him with butterflies in his stomach and a warm, cozy feeling in his chest.

And—

“What the hell am I _doing?!_ ” He rumbled.

He swerved backwards suddenly and began jetting back the way he had come. Kyrpto gave an inquiring whine back at him and made to follow.

“I’m alright, boy!” He called over his shoulder. “I’m better than alright!” He laughed to himself and realized he was grinning so hard the muscles in his cheeks hurt. “Head on home, I’ll be back later! Don't wait up!”

That was it. It was somehow that simple. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner, not seeing it ages ago. They really were a couple of idiots.

He zoomed back toward Gotham, following the familiar thrum of Tim’s heart. It was a bit faster than normal, a pace he had come to recognize as anxious. And yeah, given everything, that made sense.

He found Tim swinging through the skyscrapers, black cape billowing out behind him like an angry, rolling storm cloud. He was releasing his grappling line, preparing to fire another, suspended in midair. Conner didn’t hesitate. He didn’t slow. He barreled into Tim, gripping him around the middle as he swooped them up higher into the sky.

“What the—” Tim cried out.

Conner used his TTK to shift Tim up so he could hold him by the waist and then kissed him fierce and desperate, trying to convey everything he was suddenly feeling in heated, open-mouthed kisses. He prayed Tim hadn't had enough time retreat into himself and second-guess everything like he tended to do. To Conner's knee-buckling relief (had he actually been standing) Tim recovered from the astonishment quickly and, responded in kind.

“Yes,” was all Conner said by way of explanation, mouth moving against Tim’s as he spoke. It was the quickest way to communicate his decision and detract the least from the time they could spend kissing.

“Yes?” Tim laughed between kisses, and Conner peeled the cowl away from his face. He _really_ hated that thing.  

“Yes!” Conner replied and kissed him harder, because kissing Tim was awesome and stopping was stupid. “Yes—I’m in—I want this!”        

He could feel Tim smile into their kiss but still he insisted on talking for some insane reason.

“So, you do like dudes?”

“I don’t know. I like _you._ ” He refused to cease the kissing despite Tim’s talking. “I like the way you look. I like the way you smell. I like the way you feel. I like the way I feel when I'm around you, I always have." He finally paused his necking assault to meet the other boy’s eyes. "Tim, do you understand what I'm saying? I _love_ you!”

“Cool…” was all Tim managed, voice choked.

“Yeah, cool…” Conner echoed.

And then Tim was hugging him tight, pressing his face into the side of Conner’s neck. And that was most definitely not kissing, but it actually felt really good too. He hugged him back and pressed his nose into the hair at Tim’s temple and breathed him in. Yeah, Tim definitely smelled good, like Kevlar, leather, and something herbal that he suspected might be Tim’s hair gel or shampoo. Except now it wasn’t weird if he savored it.

Conner pressed his lips to Tim’s temple, then to his ear, and cheek. It was a tender gesture that surprised even Conner himself. He felt a shudder move through Tim at the affection and Tim’s grip tightened.

“You’re here. This is real.” Tim said into Conner’s skin.

“You bet your ass, dude.” Conner knew how hard feelings were for Tim. He knew how hard it was for him to need people. Not need as in backup in a fight, but need in that vulnerable way that left you feeling like you were baring your soul open to a knife thrust. “I’m here and I got you.”

"I missed you." Tim whispered. "I missed you _so_ much." He looked up and his eyes scanned Conner's face for a moment before he brought their lips together again.

They stayed like that for a long time, making out in the slow, languid fashion of lovers who have all the time in the world, high above it all with only the moon and stars looking down on them and the twinkling lights of Gotham below. Coming to know each other in perhaps the one way they hadn’t already. Conner found himself caught up in the heady sensation of this feeling utterly right and familiar while also being tantalizingly new.

Kissing a guy was unquestionably different from kissing a girl. Conner couldn’t quite put his finger on how, but it was. Or maybe it was just that kissing Tim was different. There was a mutual stubble factor that added an unexpectedly rough edge to even the softest press of mouths. It was surprisingly pleasurable, and added a dimension of sensation to the slide of moist skin and slick tongues. And there was something heavier about it. Even Cassie, with all her incredible strength, hadn’t given the same sense of weight into the exchange, the unmistakable edge. It was the best kissing Conner had ever been involved in.    

Wrapped in a protective bubble of TTK they could pretend for a few moments that it was only them. There were no alien invasions, lost Batman's, or megalomaniac gene donors. It was just Tim and Conner. Conner couldn’t honestly think of a time he had been happier.

“S’getting late…” Tim noted after a long while, nodding his head toward the setting moon.

Conner had legitimately lost all concept of time.

“Mmmhmm…” he hummed in disinterest, recapturing Tim’s lips with his own.

Tim chuckled, hands combing through Conner’s hair. “I really do have some things to take care of.”

“Things more important than _this_?” Conner replied in exaggerated incredulity, tongue pressing into Tim’s mouth to glide over the roof of his mouth as he resumed kissing him.

Pinprick lights went off in Conner’s brain when Tim began sucking on his tongue. Of course Tim was an amazing kisser. What the hell wasn’t Tim good at?

“You were always incorrigible.” Tim teased. “Bruce is trapped somewhere in the past, I need to help him escape and I was on my way to tell Alfred and maybe organize a rescue.”

Conner craned his neck to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “Y’know… _you_ always were a buzz kill…should’ve known. I’m rethinking this whole thing.”

“No take-backs.” Tim replied, planting a long kiss on Conner’s chin.

“Should’ve read the fine print.” Conner groaned.

“You’ll never learn.”

Conner gave Tim a serious look. He knew what finding Bruce meant to him. It meant he hadn’t lost yet another parent. “So…want a lift to the manor—or something?”

Somehow things changed suddenly and he felt awkward. Which made zero sense. How was he feeling awkward all of a sudden? They had just been fondling and sucking face. Normally he would be all forward advances and charming bravado. But he couldn't do that stuff with Tim. Tim would see right through that, had seen him do it to all the girls he'd been with. He didn't want to do that with Tim. It felt different with Tim. It was seriously confusing.

Tim’s glanced down. “That'd be cool…if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he scooped Tim up bride-style and began flying toward Wayne Manor. Tim didn’t complain, he just hooked an arm around Conner’s neck and rested the side of his head on Conner’s shoulder. “Soooo…trapped in time, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a long, dramatic, Bruce Wayne story.” Tim drawled.

“Is there any other kind?”

“Nope.” Tim agreed, drawing out the ‘o’ and popping the ‘p’.

All of their lives were like something out of the most ridiculous daytime soap opera. But Bruce and Clark really took the lion’s share of that drama. It was seriously a toss up who had the most.

He coasted above the city toward the outskirts where Wayne Manor loomed like the silent shadow of some unseen giant. He could totally understand why some kids in Gotham and even Metropolis thought it was haunted. The damn thing gave Conner the creeps too, tough for completely different reasons. Conner did not want to think about a mansion filled with Tim's overprotective, vigilante family and the kryptonite they kept locked in a led vault.  

He could have flown faster, enveloped his TTK aura around them in an aerodynamic shape and been there in the blink of an eye. But he was in no hurry. He knew Tim. Once he got to work—once the spell of the moment was broken—he'd be all grim-faced business.

“I’ll tell you the whole story sometime.” Tim said.

“It’s a date.”

Tim lifted his head and glanced up at him, eyelids hooded and shy. “Really?”

And so Conner’s heart might have skipped a beat or two, so what? He was allowed now, because he and Tim were now officially... _boyfriends? More than friends?_ Okay, so maybe things were not totally clear.

“Yeah, ah reckon I’ll pick ya up all proper like too.”

“That so, Farm Boy?”

Conner gave him his best Smallville nod.

“And who says _I_ can’t pick _you_ up?”

“Well…you _do_ have access to a lot of sweet sports cars…”

“As long as it’s with you I don’t really care who picks who up.” Tim conceded, voice soft and fond.

“I always knew you were a closet romantic.” Conner snorted.

Tim hid his face from view by leaning it into Conner’s shoulder once again. “Listen, mind if we keep this between us for awhile?”

“About Bruce?”

“No. Us being…you know…”

Conner tried not to take immediate offense. But his body tensed anyway. He tried not to think that Tim was embarrassed of them being together. But then, Conner wasn’t exactly sure he was ready for people to know himself…coming out had never really been a concept he had thought he’d have to think about.

“It’s just, I’d like it to just be us for a bit.” Tim continued, voice low and more timid than Conner had ever heard it. “Once everyone knows, there will be questions and jokes—and that’s cool and all—but I’d like us to take our time so we can do this right.”

Conner pulled Tim tighter to him. The touching was easier than he would have ever thought. The logistics, people knowing, the talking about it, that was not as easy.

“Makes sense,” he answered finally. He knew he wanted this but the thought of coming out to Ma, or Clark, or the other Titans was a bit daunting. Deep down he knew they’d all be happy for him but it was still weird. He was also fairly terrified of the Batclan knowing. “Guess we do have some stuff to talk about.”

“Yeah, talking…”

“Always the man with a plan.” Conner teased, should have known you’d already thought a dozen steps ahead of me.

“Well…not a dozen.” Tim replied. “Didn’t expect you to want me back.”

“Are you kidding? Have you _seen_ you?”

Tim pressed his forehead into the side of Conner’s ear in reply.

Conner wanted more of that. More touches and kisses that were communication enough. He and Tim had always had a good sense of one another, always had their own secret shorthand. It was part of why they worked so well as a team. Now it was like they'd added a whole new level to that communication and it was electrifying.

Unfortunately they had already arrived at the mansion despite Conner’s best efforts at dallying. Tim tapped a few commands on the holo-display of his gauntlet, probably disabling some crazy Batclan security system. Conner reluctantly set Tim down on the roof above his room and hovered just within arms reach.

Tim scratched at the corner of his jaw. “So, uh, you wanna come inside…or?”

“Nah, I’ll leave you to your family drama but, like I said, you need me, just yell.” He looked up at nothing in the sky, stalling for time. “And, you know…call me tomorrow? Or text—whatever.”

 _Smooth Superdweeb_ …

Tim’s face lit up like fucking Christmas. “Yeah, I’ll call you…we can set a date for our, uh…date. Maybe in a couple of days?”

“Yeah. For sure…” Conner just continued to float there.

He had no clue how to end this. He had no clue how to navigate their relationship now that it had fundamentally shifted—except the making out part. He had that part down packed. He also maybe wanted to stay and continue with the making out and the exploration of the physical side of this new development. But he knew that this was important and something Tim had been busting his ass for so he practiced some of that mature, self-control he’d been cultivating. It was a herculean effort and he thought he deserved some kudos.

“So, uh…goodnight.” Tim pulled at the belt loops of Conner’s jeans and tipped his head up.

Conner understood that message but didn’t drop down and instead tilted his body so that he was floating on his belly, feet angled up, and head pointed down for kissing. Tim smiled and released his hold on Conner’s belt loops to cup his face with leather-gloved hands. It was a tender kiss and Conner’s heart did stupid things in his chest again.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Any time…” He pressed his forehead to Tim’s and closed his eyes. He didn’t move to leave and neither did Tim. “Okay, I’m just gonna turn around and go…because I am apparently incapable to saying goodbye like a normal person right now, cause I’d rather just keep kissing your face.”

He could basically feel Tim’s blush radiating off of him. “Jesus, Conner.”

Conner gave him a light peck and then pulled himself back quickly and started to fly away. “Hey, you started this Boy Wonder!”

“I’m not Robin anymore!” He called after him.

“You’ll _always_ be my Robin!”

“Yeah, and you’ll always be my Clone Boy.” Tim whispered, but you know, superhearing. So Conner turned on his back and waved like the lovesick dope he suddenly was.


	2. That was Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonder Girl in da house! Conner has to make a choice. Can his super mature list making skills help him out of this one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...I know I promised Batfamily and dates but as I thought about this fic and my attempts to be as loyal to cannon as possible I felt this chapter and the next really needed to happen (#workinprogressproblems). I know I am playing fast a loose with the timeline but DC tends to do that anyways so...yeah.
> 
> Hope you're all not too disappointed and like the chapter anyway. The next two chapters should follow fairly quickly. 
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's commented and left kudos! You are all amazing and give me fuel. There is a serious shortage of Tim/Kon love on this site. Let's remedy that!
> 
> As always, this is just for fun and the characters and the universe they live in are DC's. Some bits were made pretty close to actual cannon for the sake of keeping things as compliant as possible.

Conner stared at his notebook and chewed the tip of his pen. His secret list of Superman vs. Lex Luthor lay out before him doing nothing to help assuage his anxiety and better define who Conner was trying to become.

 

_What Does Lex Luthor Do?_

_✓1.) Lies to Superman._

_2.) Goes Bald._

_3.) Gets Nervous Around Girls???_

_4.) Lies To Friends And Family._

_5.) Alienates Friends._

_6.) Makes Out With Batman????_

_What Did Superman Do?_

_✓1.) Lived with the Kents._

_✓2.) Went to Smallville High._

_✓3.) Joined A Team of Super-Heroes._

_✓4.) Helped Anyone Who Needed It._

_5.) Developed Microscopic Vision?_

_6.) Tells The Truth._

_✓7.) Died And Came Back._

_✓8.) Watched Over Krypto._

_✓9.) Used Krypto Like A Super Bloodhound To Try And Track Down Lex Luthor_

_10.) Falls In Love With Batman????_

 

Seriously, where the hell did kissing and falling in love with Tim Drake-Wayne/Red Robin fit on the damn thing?

 

He was pretty sure Superman had never kissed Batman. And Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne had sure as shit never played tonsil hockey (that would be the angriest anger bang since the inception of anger bangs). So where the hell did this thing with Tim go?

 

It had been a couple of days since that night in Gotham but he and Tim had done little more than exchange a few texts. Tim was dealing with Bat business involving Ra's Al Ghoul his dastardly ninja schemes so that had left Conner alone with his thoughts which could be a dangerous thing at the best of times. And this was both the best of times and the most confusing of times.

 

To say his world felt dumped upside down would have been putting it lightly. Since choosing to be with Tim—or realizing that he was in love with Tim—everything he had ever felt toward Tim (which had already been pretty damn intense) had gone fucking nuclear. Tim was always on his mind now, or even more so than usual. He found himself extending his hearing to Gotham just to hear his voice. He would press his nose to the t-shirt he'd been wearing that night and sniff just to get a hint of Tim's scent. He'd close his eyes and replay their kiss. It was out of hand.

 

Conner alternated between this state of active pinning, to wondering how he never realized he was in love with Tim, to then freaking over what this meant about his own sexuality. He had never once thought about being with a guy and now he was jumping into a relationship head first with his— _very much male_ —best friend. He had no clue what that meant. Was he gay? Was he bi? It was driving him in-fucking-sane.

 

He was forced up from his deliberations by a knock at the door and Krypto barking excitedly. He looked up from his notebook confused before hurrying over to lift his mattress and return it to its designated hiding place.

 

"Conner, Dear!" Ma called from downstairs. "Can you get the door?"

 

"Sure thing, Ma!" He responded as he hurried down that stairs two at a time.

 

He pulled the door open to reveal and smiling Cassie Sandsmark, golden locks tumbling freely over her shoulders and down her back. The smell of the ocean and roses hit him full force in the face, like sucker punch from Bizzaro. He skidded to a halt in front of her and stared.

 

"Uh...hi, Conner..." She greeted.

 

"Cass, hey." Conner scratched at the back of his head like he always did when he felt nervous. "What brings you here?"

 

"Ma, invited me for dinner." She answered, clasping her hands in front of her and leaning toward him. "And when Superman's mom invites you to dinner you don't say 'no'."

 

Conner found himself leaning back slightly. He was not prepared to handle this. He had no idea what he and Tim even were and he had no clue how to handle his ex (was Cassie even technically his ex? There was no guide for what happens to a relationship when your partner dies and comes back from the dead over a year later).

 

"Hey Krypto!" Cassie exclaimed as the superdog bounded over to her tailing wagging. She knelt to pet him and Krypto woofed happily and licked at her face.

 

Conner used it as a distraction as an opportunity to head into the kitchen and question Ma.

 

"You invited Cassi over?" He whispered.

 

"You've been moping the past couple of days. I know the look of a boy in love." Ma pointed her spatula at him. "I thought the two of you could use the time to talk."

 

Conner groaned and smoothed his hands over his hair. Ma, misread his distress and smiled at him. "Just be honest about your feelings. It'll work out. You’ll see."

 

"Yeah, I—"

 

"Mrs. Kent!" Cassie greeted, throwing her arms around Ma.

 

"Cassandra, don't you look lovely."

 

"Thanks,"

 

"How's your mother?"

 

"Good. Still working at the museum." She released Ma and lifted her head and took a long whiff of the air in the kitchen, it accented the elegant curve of her neck. A neck that Conner had on more than one occasion been preoccupied kissing. "It's smells amazing."

 

"It's still going to be about ten minutes." Ma informed, turning back to the stove. "Why don't you two kids take a walk and catch up while I finish up."

 

"Sure...yeah..." Conner replied.

 

They made their way out the back door and up to the big, old oak. A cool breeze was whispering in from the west rustling the leaves and tall grass. Crickets were stringing a relaxing minuet of buggy chirps. It was a beautiful Smallville night. It was pretty damn romantic actually. Conner kind of wished he could show it to Tim. Which kinda made him feel like an asshole.

 

They were silent until they were just under the branches of the massive oak and it was Cassie who finally spoke.

 

"I really missed you." She glanced over.

 

"I missed you too." And it was the honest to god truth. "I know it's not the same. For you and Tim and Bart it's been over a year. For me it was...different. One moment I was fighting Superbly Prime, the next I was waking up in the 31st century and kicking his punk ass all over again." They absently meandered toward the picnic table that overlooked the fields. "I'm sorry you all had to go through that."

 

The wind picked up and pulled Cassie's hair out over the front of her shoulders in a shimmering stream. "You've got nothing to apologize for." Her eyes looked distant, like she was suddenly somewhere else. "Can we maybe change the subject? I don't like talking about last year."

 

"Uh, sure…" Conner replied, unsure what caused the sudden change in Cassie's demeanor. He had no idea what to talk about now.

 

He was saved by Krypto's timely arrival as he dropped a large picnic basket on the table. A note was taped to the handle, written in Ma’s looping script.

 

**_It's such a nice night we thought you'd like to eat outside – Ma_ **

 

So maybe _saved_ wasn't exactly the right word. Krypto yapped and his eyes went red, shooting twin lasers to ignite the wick of the candle that had also been provided.

 

_Great…_ Conner thought moving to take a seat at the table for lack of any better ideas of what to do.

 

"Ma's the sweetest." Cassie said as she sat down opposite of him.

 

Conner busied himself with laying out the checkered tablecloth and unpacking the delicious smelling contents of the basket. "Yeah, she's great."

 

Cassie watched him, hands laced together and supporting her chin. Her sky-blue eyes were clear and bright, little lagoons in a flawless, porcelain face.

 

"This is nice," She hummed as she tucked an errant lock behind her ear. The gold star earring reflected the moonlight.

 

She really was gorgeous. Conner thought to himself. It really wasn't a mystery why he'd been in love with her. What _was_ a mystery was how differently he felt now. What was a mystery was why he wasn't compelled to flirt, that he had no urge to make any advances, that he was dead set on not sending any mixed signals. Bizarre would be a colossal understatement, especially given that the likely reason for that was a freaky, little Bat with shaggy black hair, and made the cutest little noises when Conner nipped and kissed at his ears. Yeah, _that_ was the weird part.

 

"Mmhmm," he agreed taking a bite of one of Ma's home made baguettes and chewing it to bide for time. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew where this was going.

 

Cassie leaned forward on her elbows again eyes alight with the candles and stars. Her full, red lips curved up at the corners. "Feels, like old times."

 

Yup, this was definitely going where Conner thought it was going. He must be developing super-analytic powers courtesy of his new…well whatever Tim was to him now. Maybe kissing caused them to pass on powers or something. It would not be the strangest thing.

 

"It does..." he agreed carefully.

 

Cassie must have picked up on Conner's evasiveness and changed the subject. "So…Smallville, huh..."

 

"Where else would I live?" Conner smirked, feeling much better about the terrain of this change in subject.

 

"It's just, I don't know, provincial."

 

Conner laughed. "You make me sound like a Disney princess."

 

"It's just very different. You used to hate Smallville."

 

Conner shrugged as he spread butter onto his bread. "It just made sense. After being gone, after learning about Luthor being the other half of my DNA. I just needed to go back to basics and just…figure shit out."

 

"You're trying to be Clark." Cassie observed pointedly.

 

"Is it that obvious?"

 

"Beast Boy could figure it out." She quipped.

 

"I don't know if I'm trying to _be_ Clark. I think I'm using him as a role model, taking what seems to work for him and use it."

 

"How mature of you."

 

"It’s definitely been a year. We've all grown and changed."

 

Cassie looked down at her hands. "Yeah, a lot has happened.  Listen, we haven't really talked about…us…"

 

And suddenly they were back to that.

 

_Shit, here we go..._

 

"You're doing so good. You seem so…grounded and I can tell your really trying to figure yourself out."

 

Conner frowned. He hadn't necessarily expected this turn in the conversation. He reached out and took her hand and squeezed. "Cass..."

 

"You were dead…I hate to keep bringing that up and I'm sure we've all harped on that way too much but…I was wrecked—we all were." She bit her bottom lip as tough struggling with something before seemingly deciding to dive in. "I want to be honest with you about something."

 

"Anything." Conner assured.

 

To his dismay tears started falling down Cassie's cheeks. "It was really hard on Tim and I…it took a toll…"

 

Conner felt his stomach clench and his breath stall in his chest.

 

"Tim and I…we had a fight over some project he was working on. We both missed you so bad." She looked up and the tears continued their slow cascade. "We kissed. It'll never happen again. But it happened." She turned away and the wind fanned her hair across her face. "It happened, Conner." She whispered.

 

That clenching in his stomach intensified to the point Conner felt like it might squeeze the bread he had just eaten right back up into his throat and out of his mouth. Tim had kissed Cassie…

 

_Why didn't you tell me, Tim?_ He thought miserably to himself. After everything they had just gone through, after all his talk about wanting them to do things right. How could he have not told him? It hurt. There was no other way to describe it. It was like kryptonite boot right to the crotch.

 

"You're trying harder than anyone I've ever met, working to be a better you. And I did that to you. I'm so sorry, Conner." Her eyes closed and her head dropped. "I missed you so much and…and I'm so sorry."

 

Conner was once again left in shock. For him it had been like taking a long nap but for his friends, for the people closest to him, it had been a year, a really fucked up year. It was like waking up from that nap to find the world had passed you by. He had thought he understood death. He had thought he understood the ramifications of it. He had thought the life of a superhero had prepared him for that but seeing Tim and Cass...seeing what it had done to them. He realized that he'd known next to nothing. He hadn’t understood shit about what death did to the people left behind.

 

It was that realization that helped him see why Tim might not have leapt to tell him about the kiss. It still hurt, but if the situation were reversed he wasn't sure he'd do any different. Tim having kissed Cassie and Conner and Tim having now spent a night making out put the three of them in legitimately awkward love triangle.

 

_What is my life? Seriously!_

 

He gave Cassie's hand another squeeze. "It's okay, Cassie. There's nothing to forgive. I was dead. You were both grieving."

 

He had gotten a second chance at life. He wasn't going to waste it. They were going to be okay, all of them.

 

He thought of Tim. He thought about how hard it was for Tim to be honest about his feelings for him. He knew Tim was really trying. He couldn't hold it against him. Conner already felt the pull to never talk to him about it. He could feel the sneaking fear that it would ruin things between them. But he knew what he felt for Tim. So he was going to do this right no matter what. They were going to have to talk about it. That and the other million things they needed to talk out.

 

"God, your so good." Cassie huffed. "You're so sweet, and beautiful…"

 

Conner smiled at her and leaned forward intending to give her a hug. The signals got crossed somewhere along the way however and Cassie angled her head for a kiss, lips wet and parted slightly. Conner panicked and jerked back suddenly which caused Cassie to drop back down on her butt and cover her mouth with her fingertips.

 

"Conner, I…"

 

"It's okay." Conner assured. He was seriously having a fucked up week with the kisses and the awkwardness. "Listen, Cass…"

 

Cassie closed her eyes. "It's because I kissed Tim."

 

_No. It’s because **I** kissed Tim._

 

This was going to get _so_ awkward. Like, next level awkward.

 

"No, it's not that." He looked down at the table.

 

"What is it?"

 

"You're really important to me. You, Tim, and Bart are the most important people in the world to me." He started. "I am always going to love you."

 

"But you don't want us to get back together." Cassie whispered.

 

Conner took a deep breath and let it out slowly and shook his head.

 

"What's changed?"

 

_Apparently I'm into dudes these days...or at least **one** dude._

 

God, Cassie was going to hate them. How could she not? He wanted to lie. He wanted to make something up or just avoid this whole awkward situation. But then he thought of his list.

 

_What Does Lex Luthor Do? 4.) Lies To Friends And Family._

 

_What Did Superman Do? 6.) Tells the truth._

 

Except he'd promised Tim he'd keep their relationship a secret. They had agreed to that. He couldn't betray that.

 

"There's—there's someone else." He admitted. It felt like he had to rip the words out of his throat and the look on Cassie's face felt like it was disemboweling him.

 

"Someone…else?"

 

Conner scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's complicated right now and…we're figuring things out."

 

_That's a goddamn understatement..._

 

"Someone else." Cassie repeated. "I, uh, don't—who is it?"

 

"I'm…not really ready to say."

 

Cassie turned away. "Fair."

 

"I'm sorry, Cass."

 

She shook her head and forced a smile. "Don't be. You have that right. It's probably the right call. We're both different now. We can't go back." She rubbed at her face with the backs of her hands and sighed.

 

And god, if Cassie thought _he_ was mature then she was on some kind of Tibetan Monk kinda level.  She really was one of the strongest people he knew.

 

"Can we just pretend that didn't just happen?" Despite her eyes being red Cassie's smile began to look genuine again. "Can we just have a nice Ma Kent dinner and enjoy a lovely, star-filled night? As friends?"

 

Conner smiled back. "Absolutely."

 

###

 

Later, after Cassie had gone home with a parting hug and kiss on the cheek, Conner returned to his room and reopened his notebook and began to update it.

 

_What Does Lex Luthor Do?_

_✓1.) Lies to Superman._

_2.) Goes Bald._

_~~3.) Gets Nervous Around Girls???~~ _

_~~4.) Lies To Friends And Family~~._

_~~5.) Alienates Friends.~~ _

_~~6.) Makes Out With Batman????~~ _

_What Did Superman Do?_

_✓1.) Lived with the Kents._

_✓2.) Went to Smallville High._

_✓3.) Joined A Team of Super-Heroes._

_✓4.) Helped Anyone Who Needed It._

_✓5.) Developed Microscopic Vision_

_✓6.) Tells The Truth._

_✓7.) Died And Came Back._

_✓8.) Watched Over Krypto._

_✓9.) Used Krypto Like A Super Bloodhound To Try And Track Down Lex Luthor_

_~~10.) Falls In Love With Batman????~~ _

 

He continued to stare at the two lists for a long moment before he finally flipped to a new page and wrote a new column and smiled as he wrote out the lone item and checked it off.

 

_What Does Conner Kent Do?_

_✓1.) Falls In Love With Tim Drake-Wayne._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Tim's got 99 problems and ninja's are just one of them. Plus, Conner to the rescue and awkward convos.


	3. Above the Rain and Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's return to Gotham caused all kinds of trouble. But as Tim's plan comes to fruition there are some unexpected issues that he's left to deal with. And a certain clone of Superman goes rogue which Tim is actually totally cool with. Plus, the Batfamily finally makes it on the scene!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last of the cannonish tie-in chapters I felt compelled to write in order to set this fic up. Thus, some of the dialogue is pretty similar to the comics but with the appropriate changes to reflect cannon divergences.
> 
> Shout out to Greed Day as the title comes from their song Still Breathing which you would be correct in deducing provided the inspiration for the title of this fic. Listened to that song and I thought of Tim and Kon and here we are.
> 
> Again, thanks for all the kudos and comments! You guys are awesome!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As always, I do not own these characters or the world they live in. I'm just playing in the sandbox that DC's created. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.

_I did it._

 

Glass fractured around Tim, brittle chips sprinkling against his body armor with muted clunks.   

_I saved the people he loved._

Air rushed up from below him, thumping his cape up around him; the sound like the flapping of giant, leathery wings.

_I saved everything he worked so hard to build._

His stomach keeled violently with the inertia of free fall. It was the feeling of he knew well. He had fallen so many times he had absolutely lost count. He usually had a grapple at the ready in such a situation but he felt dazed and his limbs did not seem inclined to obey him.

_No compromises._

He knew he should have felt panic. He knew his life should be flashing before his eyes or something dramatic like that.

_He won’t say anything, he never does._

But he only felt calm, a fevered sort of calm.

_I know Bruce will be proud of me._

He felt accomplished. He felt at peace. He had a plan. He was Tim Drake-Wayne. He always had a plan.

_Not a bad day._

But if this was how he went out it wasn’t a bad way to go, all things considered. If this was the way that he went out he could be okay with that. Except—there was something he didn’t want to leave behind— _someone_. His mind was hazy and he only saw cobalt eyes and a dazzling smile…

 

Arms were suddenly under him, scooping him in and ceasing gravity’s relentless pull. Strong arms that were familiar. He could smell sunshine, freshly sliced hay, and pine.

 

He felt the muscles of his mouth tug upward. Then he felt darkness pulling him, cradling him. He felt warm. He felt safe.

 

###

 

His stomach had a pulse. He could feel it beat under and along the gash in his stomach. Tim groaned, his whole body feeling tight as he stirred. His eyelids felt heavy, like they had been rusted shut. His mouth was dry and his tongue was thick. He felt like shit warmed up.

 

“He’s waking up.” A familiar voice informed.

 

Tim’s eyes finally loosened and slid sluggishly open. Bright light hit him, forcing them shut once again and water to pool under his lids. He hissed at the sting in his eyes and the pain that spiked through him as he jerked involuntarily.

 

“Great, that means he’s going to start talking.” An irritating, preadolescent voice groused.

 

“Why are you so horrible?” Another feminine voice demanded.

 

“Why did you start stuffing your costume?” Came the snarky retort.

 

Tim groaned again and managed to work his eyes open once more and keep them open this time. He felt like he had been rammed into and rolled over by Clayface.

 

“Tim!” Stephanie, still garbed in her Batgirl uniform, leaned toward him. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re in the Batcave.”

 

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to see familiar, dark eyes crinkling with a fond smile.

 

“Alfred…” Tim greeted, his own smile oddly lazy. They must have given him something for the pain.

 

“Hello, Master Timothy.” The butler greeted. “Good to see you. Though I would have appreciated a ‘goodbye”.”

 

“Sorry, Alfred.” Tim ducked his head and averted his gaze.

 

“You’re Teen Titan riffraff is upstairs raiding my father’s kitchen. _Do_ something about it.” Damian continued his relentless griping. Apparently completely unphased by Tim’s Batman-level planning and brush with death.

 

“Tim…” Dick walked up, cowl pulled off, smile wide.

 

As always, he still managed to look handsome even with sweaty, disheveled hair from a night of fighting ninja. Despite how much Tim had wanted Dick to take on the mantle of Batman after Bruce it still felt extraordinarily strange to see him in the suit.

 

Dick placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Welcome home.”

 

It was still weird being here with them all. It was still like it had been a lifetime since he’d seen them. Given how much had changed, he supposed it might as well have been. There was a lot to talk about. There was much that needed to be settled. But for now…

 

“Ra’s?” Tim asked.

 

“We swept the place but we found nothing.” Dick replied. His blue eyes, eyes that were lighter and brighter than Tim’s, fixed him pointedly. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

 

“It’s…a bit complicated but I think we should be alright for a while.”

 

Dick tilted his head to the side. “How’d you know you weren’t going to go splat on the Gotham roadside?”

 

Tim smiled. It was the first real smile he’d given Dick since before he chosen Rosemary’s Baby over him as Robin and their subsequent scuffle right before Tim left. “You’re my brother, Dick. You’ll always be there for me.”

 

The new Batman’s eyes dropped to the floor and his shoulders sagged. “Yeah—I will. I promise…but, uh… _I_ didn’t catch you this time.”

 

Tim’s eyebrows bunched together.

 

Dick looked back up. “I was going to. I was _right there_ —”

 

“But the clone beat him to it.” Damian supplied bluntly.

 

Tim’s heart jumped erratically behind his chest bone. He felt warmth threatening to shift the color of his skin. He forced a slow inhalation and held it before releasing it.

 

“Conner…” he allowed himself to mutter.

 

“Yeah, I was there but he just swooped out of nowhere and caught you and flew you back here before I could even call out to him.”

 

Stephanie smirked at Dick. “Can’t beat a guy who’s faster than a speeding bullet.”

 

“Master Conner has been quite helpful tonight.” Alfred added. “He came to my aide with the assassins and because of his timely arrival you lost far less blood than you would have otherwise.”

 

Tim was at a loss for words. He should have known. It shouldn’t be a surprise but he still felt stunned. He felt stunned and happy—no _giddy_ —he felt childishly giddy. Conner had been there. Conner would always be there.

 

He realized he’d been sitting in silent befuddlement while Dick and Alfred asked questions and Damian was ranting on about filing motions against Tim’s move to take control as CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

 

Tim shook the fog from his head and blurted: “Bruce is alive. I’ve got evidence. I’m _not_ crazy.” It had the desired effect of taking the focus off of Conner and his rescue and it was a declaration that was long overdue. “Trust me.”

 

The butler and his older brother shared a sidelong look before Dick spoke.

 

“Guess we have a lot to talk about.”

 

Tim felt relief swell up from his gut but felt himself tighten again when he noticed Steph’s eyes burning into him.

 

“Uh, Steph, you’re glaring at me.”

 

Batgirl crossed her arms and her glower intensified. “You got something to tell me?” She demanded. Something that _maybe_ slipped your mind while I was helping save your ass even after you yelled at me?”

 

Tim began to panic. He felt every muscle go rigid and tight. _She knows!_ Had Conner said something? Or had she just managed to figure it out? Or perhaps Barbara…

 

“Congratulations, Drake…” Damian offered him a smug grin along with a folded newspaper. “You dog.”

 

He took the paper in trembling hands. Perhaps some photographer had snapped a picture of he and Conner or someone had seen them on the roof the other night. Perhaps Conner had planted a kiss on him as he flew him to safety. He fumbled it open and was greeted with a picture of his own surprised face as he exited a limo and Tam Fox smiling confidently at the camera.

 

In bold letters the article read: ENGAGED! TEEN WAYNE HEIR TIM DRAKE TO WED OLDER WOMAN.

 

Relief returned in another rush and his shoulders sagged and he let the paper fall to his lap. _Thank god…_

“What the hell, Tim?” Steph insisted. He could hear her booted foot tapping against the cave floor, the sound bumping along the cavern walls.

 

Tim realized that he was laughing. It hurt the stitches and bruises but he couldn’t stop it. It tumbled out of him in irrepressible, rolling waves.

 

“I knew it.” Damian intoned. “He’s gone mad.”

 

Steph’s foot came down hard putting a stop to the irritable tapping and signaling her impending anger. “What the hell, Tim!”

 

Still, Tim couldn’t stop his laughing. He waved his hand at her. “It’s nothing. It’s not what you think.”

 

He really did lead the most ridiculous life.

 

Steph still looked royally pissed off and she turned her head away from him with a huff, blond mane bouncing with the motion.

 

Tim felt good. His body was a bit beaten but not too bad considering.  The Cave still felt like home even after everything that had happened and these people still felt like family. When Tim finally managed to gain control of his crazed laughter he looked up and grinned at Dick and Alfred.

 

“Uh, I’ve really got to go to the bathroom.”

 

###

 

Tim splashed water on his face. It stung the cuts on his face but it helped ease the fuzzy cloud that was mucking up his brain. He was grateful for the pain relief but had always hated how the drugs dulled his thinking.

 

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror for a long while. It was like looking at a stranger. He hadn’t really taken the time to just look at himself in a long time, at least not for anything other than patching wounds or suiting up. He hadn’t stopped long enough to do more than that. He had been going without pause for months.

 

When had his hair gotten that long? It draped over his eyes and he combed his fingers through it and began pulling it back behind his head to tie it into a messy bun. A knock on the door puled him away from his mirror gazing.

 

“Dick, I’m fine. Stop fuss—”

 

The door opened and Conner peeked in sheepishly. “Uh, hey…is it cool if I come in?”

 

Tim straightened up slowly and faced him but words wouldn't form. They hadn’t been alone since the other night. They hadn’t had the chance to talk about anything. Ra’s had wasted no time in laying out his threat the instant Conner had left Tim on the Manor roof. Since then Tim hadn't really let himself think about everything going on between he and Conner. He had had to keep his mind on the mission, on his plan. He couldn’t afford the distraction of his handsome best friend.

 

“Y—yeah,” Tim finally managed after Conner cleared his throat and looked ready to bolt.

 

Conner nodded and slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Tim remained rooted in his spot and the other teen edged closer, his hands moving up and ghosting over the bandages that covered Tim’s torso, tracing the air over them. Conner worried at his lower lip and his hands worked their way up to Tim’s face and stopped just before they could cup his jaw.

 

Tim felt his blood thundering in his ears. Conner’s eyes met his, asking permission once again. Tim held his breath and stepped closer causing Conner’s hands to make contact. That was all the consent Conner seemed to need because he held Tim’s face gently. His thumbs rubbed Tim’s cheeks just under the cuts there, one of which had required seven stitches.

 

“Idiot.” Conner breathed, relief evident in his words and body.

 

“I’m okay.” Tim assured, hands coming up to grip Conner’s arms and squeeze.

 

“You—you never mentioned taking on Ra’s alone…or that your plan was to get kicked out a window.” Conner’s eyes had become accusing, blue flames.

 

“You caught me.” Was all Tim could manage before he was leaning up and over, bringing his lips to rest on Conner’s in a soft and timid kiss.

 

Conner surged forward and deepened the kiss. “Always…”

 

Tim shouldn't have been surprised at the intensity of his own want at this point. But somehow it managed to sneak up on him every time. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it.

 

Tim found himself pushing forward eagerly and opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to Conner’s lips, working them open, flushing his chest with Conner’s, desperate to be closer.

 

That had been a mistake. He winced and pulled back with a sharp inhalation through his teeth.

 

“Shit!” Conner cursed. “Sorry.”

 

“My fault.” Tim assured.

 

Silence crept back between them. The things they hadn’t talked about yet crowding in like they always did when their lips and bodies parted. Tim had expected the physical part of their relationship to be difficult. Neither of them had been with a guy before and Tim had assumed it would be weird but it wasn’t. The physical stuff was easy as breathing. It was everything else that felt weird now.  

 

“Thanks.” Tim finally managed.

 

Conner cocked an eyebrow.

 

“For catching me, for saving Alfred…”

 

“You scared the shit out of me, dude.” Conner replied. “I was listening…heard it all. I freaked. I know it wasn’t part of the plan but once I heard that glass break I just acted.”

 

“You did good.” Tim assured. This time it was him who cupped Conner’s face. “My hero.”

 

Conner grinned with obvious pride and closed his eyes and turned his head toward Tim’s palm. It felt good to see his friend so affected by his touch. Only in Tim’s wildest dreams did that ever seem possible. If his own desire for Conner was a surprise then Conner’s desire for him was some unpreviously documented level of astounding. It made Tim feel so stupidly good.

 

Then Conner went suddenly rigid and his head perked up and away from Tim’s hand. “I had dinner with Cassie last night. We…talked.”

 

Dread slithered into Tim’s gut and he let his hand fall. He wasn’t sure what Conner was going to say but he could tell that it wasn’t good.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Conner turned away. “She told me…”

 

_Shit…_

 

“About the two of you kissing.” Conner finished and looked back at Tim. He expected rage but was surprised to see hurt instead.

 

“Kon, listen. We had a fight—and we both missed you so fucking much and…” he shrugged helplessly ignoring the dull pain it caused to ripple through his body. “I was—we were…”

 

“Tim, dude, this is one time where ‘we were thinking of you the whole time’ might actually make sense…” Conner smirked. “A totally wacked out kind of sense…but it still makes sense.”

 

Tim sputtered a laugh out. “Y—yeah, yeah I guess it does, huh.”

 

Conner’s grin faded as quickly as it had arrived and his face went serious once again. It had always astounded Tim how he could go from legitimately laughing back to serious in an instant. “I’m not mad it happened. I was dead. I get it.”

 

Despite that assertion Tim knew a set up when he heard one and knew the hammer was coming.

 

“I’m—I just wish you would’ve told me. In Paris or the other night…” he sighed. “Sucked finding out like that…”

 

“I’m sorry.” Tim stepped back a pace. “I—we had just—you and me, you know? And I wasn’t really thinking about that and didn’t want to ruin it. Because…it was perfect and you wanted me too…and then Ra’s happened and then—”

 

“I know.” Conner closed the distance between them and took Tim’s hands in his. “I just…we never kept secrets before…or we haven’t in a long time. This—” he kissed Tim long and gentle before pulling back only a hair’s breadth away. “It changes things. I just don’t want it to cause us to start keeping secrets, okay?”

 

Tim felt stupefied. How was Conner this perfect?

 

“I love you.” He blurted.

 

Conner surprised him with a severe and sudden blush. “Fucking A, man.” He kissed him again, working his lips over Tim's in that way that had his toes curling and his nerves tingling under his skin. “I love you too.” Tim moved closer, dead set on more kissing but Conner pulled his lips just out of reach. “And that wasn’t an answer.”

 

Conner was a bastard. He was totally unfair and playing dirty. Tim had met his match. “Alright, no secrets.” Tim complied.

 

“Good.” Conner smiled victoriously. “Now, what’s this about being engaged?”

 

Tim groaned and thunked his head into Conner’s chest as the other boy snickered, hands gliding softly over Tim’s back. “I swear, Vickie _fucking_ Vale. It's _nothing_!”

 

“Not according to Tam Fox.”

 

“We are _not_ engaged. We kissed like, _one_ time.”

 

Conner arched an eyebrow.

 

"Hey, You wanted honesty. This is me being honest.”

 

Conner rolled his eyes.

 

“It was a post-adrenaline-I-just-saved-her-life-thing.” Tim waved off. “Way before our kiss.”

 

“You _do_ remember calling me a womanizer, right?”

 

Tim cast his eyes toward the ceiling and hummed. “Nope, I do not recall.” Conner began to retort but Tim spoke over him. “I _do_ recall you sounding pretty cute as you smart mouthed Ra’s Al Ghul tonight though.”

 

Conner smirked at him. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Tim’s voice had lowered and he was tilting forward again. “You should’ve seen his face.”

 

“Tim!” Dick called, his steps approaching the bathroom. It was followed shortly by a knock at the door. “You all right in there?”

 

Tim shot his hand to Conner’s mouth, clamping over it to prevent any expletives that might be trying to escape it. The super’s eyes were wide with panic and Tim jerked his thumb over to the shower. Conner nodded against Tim’s hand and floated quickly and silently behind the tiled wall.

 

“I’m fine.” Tim answered, without having to fake the irritation in his tone. “Stop fussing. Jeez, let a guy use the bathroom in peace.” He pulled the door open and met his adoptive brother who predictably trailed after him towards the kitchen fretting over him the entire way.

 

Kissing would have to wait it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: We go off the cannon rails! The date and waaay more Batfamily fun/awkwardness.


	4. The Fuel and the Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date time! awkward Tim/Kon convos. And so much more Batfam!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this chapter got away from me (obviously, given that this turned out to be pretty much as long as the whole fic has been so far...it just kinda happened). I really had a lot of fun with this chapter and I liked keeping things canon informed but getting to go off the rails. 
> 
> Also, almost 90 kudos! Holy cow, did not expect the love! Thank you all so much you are all freaking amazing and I am so happy people are liking this fic. You're kudos and comments warm the inky black depths of my heart! So much love for you all.

Finding opportunities for more alone time with Conner turned out to be more difficult than originally planned. After he’d left Conner hiding in the bathroom things had generally spiraled out wildly from there. Both Dick and Alfred were understandably eager to learn more about Tim’s touted evidence. That had meant a full recounting of the past several months and all the insanity Tim had become embroiled in while he was off globetrotting.

His friends and adoptive family were all more than eager to hear the tale but once the details and planning started to begin his friends started to trickle out one by one. Conner had attempted to linger but it soon became obvious that he needed to leave before Tim’s family realized he was loitering. Tim had wanted to walk him out but the opportunity never arose and they had instead been forced to settle for a brief, longing glance before Alfred led Conner out. That was the last Tim had seen of him for over two weeks.

As it turned out, getting Bruce back from his sojourn through time was something of a priority once Tim had let the proverbial cat out of the bag. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Bruce got himself back. He'd just needed to have almost the entire Justice League beat him up and induce clinical death for a full two minutes. Because _that_ was the only way to remove the living curse that had attached itself to Bruce.

Yeah, Tim was still processing all that.

Upon returning to the present and being briefed by Tim on the current state of Gotham, Bruce had wasted no time in swooping back down to his city and turning it on its head. As Bruce Wayne, he outted himself as Batman's financial backer and announced something he was calling Batman Incorporated. “Chaotic” would have been a massive understatement when describing the fallout of that announcement.

To top all of that off Bruce had made the decision to leave Tim in his role as CEO of Wayne Enterprises (thanks a lot…) and Vickie Vale's story about Tim being engaged to Tam Fox had resulted in a Bruce-Wayne-level tabloid snafu. Bruce and Lucius both encouraged the charade, considering it beneficial for the time being as it kept the tenacious Ms. Vale off the trail of Tim’s more _clandestine_ activities. Tam had turned out to be very adept at running interference for him and despite all Tim had put her through seemed eager to help.

The whole ordeal made Tim cringe internally. Even though what he and Conner were was not yet clearly defined it still felt very much like a betrayal to pretend to be engaged to someone. It also felt shitty to not so much as mention to Tam he might be involved with someone. The whole thing left Tim feeling like there was nest of restless snakes squirming in his belly.  

On the other side of the superhero world Conner had had his own family spectacle to deal with. He had a highly unsettling encounter with Lex Luthor wherein his estranged not-father taunted Conner using Lex's own sisters illness. That had led Conner on a wild goose chase that ended with a Lex Luthor and Brainiac team up that ultimately required both Conner's and Clark's combined attention and outer space shenanigans.    

That left no time for dates with best friends suddenly turned boyfriend. Tim still managed to talk with Conner over the phone a bit (when he wasn’t off world) and they even managed to flirt a little via text. Tough, truth be told, it felt very similar to their typical banter. Perhaps they had been flirting all along. When exactly they had fallen into the realm of more-than-friends was still difficult to pinpoint. There was still a lot of talking that needed to happen and Tim, for some reason, was dreading it.

That dread, coupled with the distance that spanned between them in both time and proximity, caused the uncertainty and doubts that lurked in the dark corners of Tim’s psyche to begin creeping out. It stirred that nest of snakes in the pit of his stomach into a slithering frenzy. Big questions began to echo within the confines of his skull.

Where did Tim fall on the sexuality spectrum?

Where the hell did that put Conner on said spectrum?

Had Tim turned Conner gay?

Was this really what Conner wanted or was he just confused?

Tim had logical answers to most of those questions. Tim knew that sexuality was complex and not a simple binary system. He had always known he was likely somewhere in the middle of that spectrum. He knew that Conner was a goddamn (almost) adult and could make his own choices but all his famed logic still crumpled to the onslaught of those doubts. And those doubts began to seep into his interactions with Conner. At times Tim honestly wondered if he just wasn’t built for love.  

Surprisingly—or perhaps not surprisingly—it was Conner who held the line. Tim could disgracefully admit to himself in the quiet, shame-riddled solitude of his mind that he could very well have allowed the relationship to decay by distracting himself and avoiding Conner. He could have put not only their budding romantic relationship but also their very friendship at risk. Thankfully, Conner was having none of that. He barreled right through Tim's dysfunctional tendencies with his trademark brashness and confidence.

It made Tim's heart do happy, little backflips.

**-**

**Conner K** : K Bruce has been back two weeks. When you gonna let me make an honest dude out of you?

-

Tim couldn't stop the delighted sigh and grinned a big stupid grin that he immediately forced from his face. He was in the middle of what appeared to be "family time" at Wayne Manor (which was both bizarre and maybe necessary). He didn't need anyone of his family members seeing that expression on his face. They were a family of detective vigilantes. They wouldn't be able to control themselves. They would snoop and pry until they found the answer.

**-**

**Me** : How fast can you get here?

 **Conner K** : En route. ETA 35 minutes.

-

That stupid grin was back.

"What are _you_ smirking about over there?" Babs inquired, emerald eyes shimmering behind the lenses of her glasses.

She was reclined on the couch, working from a tablet, legs propped up on Dick's lap as he massaged her feet and calves. The new medical procedures that had been working to repair the damage to her spine along with the new physical therapy she was currently engaged in required someone to massage the muscles of her legs regularly. It was a job Dick seemed more than happy to fill.

Tim kept his gaze on his phone, fighting his urge to instantly snap his eyes up. "Just another ridiculous article about my _amorous_ relationship with Tam Fox." He finally allowed himself to look up, trusting his expression to convey what he desired. By now he had the attention of the entire room. "Couldn't help but grin at how ridiculous it was."

Barbara didn't look like she completely bought it but Tim was good at misdirection and she followed a different line of questioning. "You sure there's nothing going on there?"

Tim let his eyes reel up toward the ceiling. "She kissed me _once_ , but that's it. We're friends and that's where I'm leaving it."

"If she's interested why not go for it? She's cute." Dick joined in, thumbs working along Babs’ feet in long, firm strokes. "You haven't dated anyone in ages."

This was territory that Tim had definitely wanted to avoid but he was struggling to find a way to resolve it without drawing further attention to his love life.

"It would add needless complications." Tim finally answered.

Barbara snorted. "When has _that_ stopped anyone in this room?"

"Stopped what?" Steph asked, coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn.

With the popcorn came the smell of butter and memories of movie theaters and Wendy marathons with Conner. Tim shoved those memories aside.

_That's not helping!_

"Stupid romantic entanglements." Damian groused where he was sharpening a knife while he lay upside down on the opposite couch, feet hooked over the back couch.

"We do have a bit of a reputation." Steph nodded, plopping down next to Damian and cheerfully ignoring his scowl and flicking one of the puffy, popped kernels at the little demon spawn.

"All the more reason I should avoid that sort of thing." Tim concluded, turning back to his phone and hoping the matter was concluded. “One of us has to learn eventually.”

"Tam is a lovely young lady." Bruce noted from behind his laptop. His fingers never ceasing their manic tapping and only glancing up for an instant.

 _Et tu, Bruce?_ Time glared over at his adoptive father.

"Tam?" Steph's nose scrunched up. "I thought that was some fake-out-cover-thing."

"It _is_!" Tim groaned, flipping his head up at the ceiling.

Steph made a grumbling noise and stared intently at her bowl of popcorn before stuffing a handful into her mouth and aggressively chomping away.

Tim turned his attention back to his phone but caught Dick and Babs exchanging a look then directing pointed glances between him and Steph.

_Subtle..._

Tim would be the first to admit his relationship with Steph was complicated. There had been a lot of tension between the two of them when Tim had returned and learned that she had dawned the mantle of Batgirl. It had upset him. He worried a great deal about her putting herself in danger. He had wanted her out of this life. But Steph had always been headstrong and more than a bit defiant. And when it came down to it, she loved being a hero and Tim had to concede that she’d taken her skills to another level. Her mentorship under Babs had done her good.

In some ways Steph was one of his best friends, and there was some serious history there. She was beautiful, even in her purple yoga pants, oversized grey sweater, and hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. Tim also got the distinct impression Steph still had feelings for him and he still really cared about her…but Conner…that was something on whole different level. If Conner wasn't in the picture, if Tim were still operating on the assumption nothing would ever happen between them and he was still forcing full denial, he would likely be trying to rekindle something with Steph.

All of that meant this served as the perfect cover for him to hide behind from Dick and Babs. Let them think he was avoiding dating because of Steph. It wasn't exactly fair to Steph and he didn't really want to think about how she'd react to Tim and Conner being together but he wasn’t ready to have _the talk_ with everyone yet. It seemed a bit premature given he and Conner hadn’t even had a date yet.

Plus, Tim could be real jerk like that. He knew that about himself. He hated it but couldn’t seem to help it. He had serious problems. He was working on it.

The conversation in the room had thankfully drifted to other subjects and it was almost time for Conner to arrive at the mansion—not that Tim was watching the minute’s tick away or anything. That was of course when Selina Kyle decided to storm into the manor.

"Where is he, Alfred!?" She demanded, her voice resounding all the way from the foyer, ricocheting between the walls. "Bruce Wayne you stupid, inconsiderate, son of a bitch!" They all cringed at the stream of curses. "Of all the reckless, inconsiderate—"

"Apologies, Master Bruce but Miss Kyle was very… _insistent._ " Alfred apologized from behind Selina as she stalked into the room like a seriously pissed off tiger. But Alfred's eyes conveyed the “I told you so” look that they had all been on the receiving end of more than once.

"Damn right I'm insistent!" Selina snapped, brushing through the room without even a glance at the others in attendance. "Of all the shit you've pulled over the years..."

Bruce placed his laptop aside and got to his feet. It was only Tim's highly trained eye that clued him into the minute twitch at the corner of Bruce's eye that informed him that Bruce had just fought off a cringe.

"Selina—"

**_Crack!_ **

Selina had stridden right up to Bruce and slapped him full on across the face. Her hands shot back down to her sides and balled into angry fists. The room went silent as Bruce massaged his jaw.

" _That_ was for getting yourself lost in time and not telling me that you were back the _second_ you were rescued by the super hero brigade." She went at him again, whipcord quick, and hard to track. She pulled herself flush up against Bruce and her lips pressed fiercely into his. For his part, Bruce responded to the kiss as though he had been expecting it.

Tim would never understand their relationship.

"And _that_ was for making it back to me alive." Selina purred softly and with sudden warmth, the backs of her nails stroking along Bruce's cheek. Bruce closed his eyes against the slow rake of her fingers.

She moved in to kiss him again but he pulled his head back. "We have an audience..."

Selina snorted dismissively, her wrists crossing lazily behind Bruce's neck. "Let the kids watch." She tilted her head and Bruce seemed inclined to give in but they were interrupted by the doorbell ringing and causing them to both pull back.

Tim had been distracted by the spectacle that was Batman and Catwoman’s dysfunctional romance and realized too late that it was Conner and that Alfred was already almost to the door. He fought against the instinct to bolt from his seat on the couch and rush to answer before Alfred. He wanted to intercept Conner and just leave in order to avoid any interaction with the circus that had taken up residence in the living room. Instead he bit the inside of his mouth and fought the urge to curl his fingers into the couch leather beneath his hands.

 _I am like water_ … He chanted his personal mantra to himself. _All passes through me and I do not break_ …

"Master Conner is here to call on Master Timothy." Alfred announced leading a bashful Superboy into the room.

Tim breathed out and forced his heartbeat to steady in order to avoid blushing.

"Conner?" Bruce said, looking genuinely confused. His eyes narrowed over Selina's head toward the half-Kryptonian teen.

"Uh, hi…everyone…" Conner waved awkwardly, one hand stuffed in a denim pocket.

He was wearing the black, thick-rimmed glasses that Tim thought made him look extra cute, along with one of his less faded flannels and jeans that did not have holes, grease stains, or dirt caked into the knees. For Conner Kent this was well dressed. This was Conner dressed for a _date_.

"Conner!" Dick greeted, with his usual brand of cheerfulness. "Long time no see, bro!"

"Y—yeah, you've all been pretty busy I heard." Conner was seriously the shyest Tim had ever seen him. He looked terrified, like he wanted to be anywhere other than surrounded by nearly every members of the Batfamily. "Glad to hear you made it back okay, Mister Wayne." He nodded toward Bruce, all farm-boy mannered.

Bruce only returned a nod in response, brows furrowing and that line forming between them that Tim knew meant he was puzzling something out. That line was _never_ a good sign.

Tim wanted to save Conner. He wanted to swoop in and rescue him from his crazy, adoptive family but he did not have the faintest idea of how to do that without making it obvious that they were hiding something.

"Clone," Damien acknowledged, finger tapping the tip of his blade.

The tentativeness and nervousness left Conner instantly as he regarded the new Robin with an irritated frown. "Satan’s Little Helper."

Tim smiled. That might seriously be the most attractive thing Conner had ever said.

Tim looked back at Bruce and that ditch between his eyebrows was only getting deeper. This was bad. He knew Bruce was thinking about his “no metas in Gotham” rule and preparing to demand a reason for Conner's sudden, unapproved appearance. He was probably also tallying up all the times Conner had blatantly ignored that very _unwritten_ rule.

"No patrolling or superheroing." Tim piped up, getting to his feet, and cringing at the prepubescent crack to his voice. "Just gonna hang out. We haven't just hung out in a long time. You know, Conner and I—the two of us—because the others couldn't, I mean."

Dick made a face like he had just tasted something that was sourer than he had anticipated, indicating that he thought Tim was being weird. "Good…for you guys? I am always telling you to get out there and have a life."

"I don't care what Drake plans to do with the alien-hybrid." Damien dismissed, having returned to sharpening his knife, apparently still dissatisfied with its level of sharpness.

Steph's eyes were hard and passed between the two of them. "What are you guys gonna do?"

"Museum." Conner said at the same time Tim said: "Movie."

They both looked at one another both their expressions caught between a mix of embarrassment and adoration, both unable to resist their grins. Tim couldn’t keep his heart from skipping all around the confines of his chest. They had each picked something the other would want to do, because maybe they really were perfect for each other. He wanted to do nothing more than just gaze back at Conner and exchange dreamy grins. Except everyone was staring at them.

"A movie or maybe the museum…" Tim amended quickly, reluctantly prying his gaze from Conner's frustratingly good-looking face. "We haven't decided."

Steph's expression seemed to intensify further. Tim was failing miserably. Everyone knew that something was up.  

Bruce's eyelids dropped lower, basically glaring, and he was about to open his mouth when Selina spun away from him and swept over to them. Her slender hands were strong and insistent as they went to the two young men's backs and she began ushering them toward the door.

"That's wonderful," she intoned for the room to hear. "You two lovely young men get out there and paint the town red." She leaned in close between them and in a knowing whisper added: "You leave Daddy Bats to me. You just enjoy your _date_."

They both jerked to look back at her and she gave them a suggestive wink and this time Tim couldn't hide his blush. Alfred joined them and took over herding them out and he and Selina shared a look that made Tim want to burrow into the nearest hole and never come out again.

When had this become his life? In what alternate reality had he stumbled into where Catwoman was his wingman?

“Master Conner,” Alfred called, catching Conner’s attention as they shuffled dumbly out of the Manor. “I expect nothing but gentlemanly behavior from you.” Alfred’s face remained as impassive as ever but Tim knew Alfred was giving a warning. “I know where Master Bruce keeps the kryptonite.” At this he dipped his head and lifted an eyebrow to emphasize his point.

“Y—yes, sir.” Conner assured instantly.

“ _Alfred_!” Tim cried, his face buried in his hands.

“Do have a lovely time.” Alfred gave a slight bow, the corner of his mouth hitched up in a smirk as he closed the door.

Conner's shoulders bunched up to his ears and he gave a sidelong glance to the Manor. "Soooo…that was…surreal."

Tim chuckled to himself, pulling himself out from the safety of his palms. "That's not a very Conner Kent word."

"Been studying for the ACT's. Some of the vocab's stuck."

"Well surreal is an understatement." Tim returned, making his way down the long gravel path that led out of Wayne Manor, the crushed gravel crunching crisply under the rubber soles of his sneakers.

"Catwoman and Alfred are totally onto us."

That was potentially problematic.

"Yeah...but at least they seem to be willing to keep it under wraps for the time being. And humiliate me in the process." He glanced at Conner. “You sure you still want to do this? It’s not too late to back out and save yourself from my family.”

“I thought there were no returns?”

“I’m feeling merciful.”

“Nah,” Conner dragged the word out while bumping his shoulder into Tim’s. “I think I’ll stick it out.”

“Last chance.” Tim warned, unable to keep himself from leaning into him.

“I’ve always been reckless. I think I’ll go ahead and take my chances.”

Tim pulled to a stop at the massive rod iron gates that warded Wayne Manor from the rest of the world. “You were warned.” He realized that his voice had gone to a whisper and he was rocking up onto the balls of his feet toward Conner.

“Uh, call me paranoid but I’m worried someone might be watching.” Conner whispered back with a embarrassed grin.

Tim ceased his forward momentum, dropping back down to the flats of his feet. He knew Conner was not likely being paranoid. “Guess I’m rubbing off on you.”

“That’s the plan, yeah.” Conner said, with a wicked gleam to his eyes and one corner of his mouth curved upward.

Tim shivered. A surge of heat bloomed in his face and he felt like he wanted to go into a spaz but manfully kept all limbs and features still. Conner barked a laugh and slung his arm roughly across Tim’s shoulders and drew him in close. To anyone spying it wouldn’t look much different than Conner’s typical roughhousing affection.

“I told you, man. You started this. You’re gonna have to live with the consequences.”

Tim was surprised to realize he was completely fine with that. He also realized he really wanted to be making out with Conner right then and there. He wanted to be pressed up against him and doing things he wasn’t entirely sure he knew _how_ to do with a guy.

“So, the Ferrari? The Lamborghini?” Conner asked, moving away but letting his hand stroke down Tim’s arm as he did. “We could always hijack the Batmobile.”

“Ah…” Tim sputtered. “I’m a bit of err…a celebrity at the moment. Might not be a good idea to draw attention to ourselves unless we want Vickie Vale and shit load of photographers joining in on our first date.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re kind of a big deal.” Conner teased before giving a dramatic sigh. “I suppose the gorgeous sports cars can wait for our second date.”

“I’m beginning to worry you’re only in this for my access to Wayne auto convoy.”

“What’s the point of having a rich boyfriend if you get none of the perks?”

There went Tim’s stupid heart again. “Boyfriend?”

Conner ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah…I mean that’s what I thought…uh, I guess I should’ve asked?” He glanced up with only his eyes. "Shit, I totally botched this didn't I?"

"No," Tim’s smile felt like it would split his face in two. “Boyfriends sounds good to me.”

“Sweet,” Conner smiled back.

“Yeah…”

“So how are we planning to get into the city? I doubt Bruce keeps a hatchback around this joint.”

Tim shrugged. “Air Superboy?”

“Now who’s only in it for the boyfriend perks?” Conner demanded, arms folding in front of his chest.

Tim batted his eyelashes dramatically and pouted. “I like when you fly me places.”

Conner made a show of sighing and uncrossed his arms. “Fine.”

Before Tim could say anything he had swept him into his arms and rocketed into the sky. The air pressed into Tim’s face making his skin feel like clay. Conner was showing off, flying faster than necessary, the world zipping past them in smearing bands of blue and grey before giving way to the towering cityscape of Gotham. The dark spires of the city bobbed into view as Conner slowed to a less _super_ pace. He brought them down in an alley not far from one of the main boulevards in Cherry Hills.

“Thank you for flying Air Superboy,” Conner thanked in a singsong tone. “We know you have many choices in superhero travel and hope you’ll choose us again for all your aeronautic needs.”

Tim snorted a laugh as he hopped out of Conner’s arms. He combed his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it after the flight had left it in a windswept mess. Conner reached out and offered his own assistance with strokes and pats.

“You’re a mess,” he said fondly.

“Your fault.” Tim replied before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

That simple action was like opening the floodgates. Conner was on him instantly, mouth roving hungrily over Tim's as he pushed Tim backwards until his back was up against a wall. Tim arched into him and his hands clawed into the back of the other boy’s shirt.

"Can't stop thinking about you." Conner growled, moving to nip and lick along Tim's neck. "Think about you all day. Think about you when I go to sleep. Started fucking _dreaming_ about you." He bit and sucked at the pulse point of Tim's neck and Tim moaned in a way that should have definitely been embarrassing. "Can't get you outta my head."

"Kon," was all Tim was able grit out. He was utterly helpless to stop the roll of his hips.

He couldn't say anything else. His mind was morphing into mush at an exceedingly rapid pace. His body was responding of it's own accord and his jeans were already becoming alarmingly uncomfortable. He was suddenly aware of a mirroring bulge from Conner. The knowledge that he was the cause of that, that he was doing that to Conner coupled with the words Conner continued to press into his skin was devastating and nothing he had ever hoped to truly have.

"Make me crazy…" Conner continued to ramble. "Always have…" His hands slipped under the hem of Tim's t-shirt and roamed greedily over his skin. "Tim…" One of his thighs slipped between Tim’s inviting him to thrust against it.

The situation was rapidly descending into something hot and dirty from Tim's most blush inducing fantasies. He felt his grip on reason slipping. He felt ready to do anything Conner even suggested right then and there in that dark, probably grimy, Gotham alley.

That thought was thankfully like a splash of cold water and he clung to that minor glimmer of sanity. He wanted this. He wanted it so bad it hurt. But he didn't want his first time with Conner to be in some alley. He managed to push the decidedly dirtier part of his brain aside when it argued that: Yes, yes Tim did in fact want that to be where his and Conner's first time was.

“Kon—Conner,” Tim finally managed, grasping at the fraying edges of reason. “Hold on…”

Conner had moved his mouth and teeth down to Tim’s collarbone and only responded with a disappointed moan.

Tim realized that somewhere along the way he’d unbuttoned Conner’s flannel, exposing his Suberboy T-shirt.

_Jesus…_

“Maybe you could buy a guy dinner first.” Tim suggested with a husky chuckle.

Conner groaned but complied. “Tease.”

“You like it.”

Conner smirked at him as he began to rebutton his shirt and Tim pulled his t-shirt back down from where it had been rucked up around his waist. Both of them readjusted their pants and when their eyes met they burst into an uncontrolled fit of laughter and Tim had to steady himself against the wall. He almost never laughed like that. It was really only Conner that could do that to him. It was amazing.

“See what I mean.” Conner gasped out as his laughing slowed. “Make me crazy, man.”

“Feelings mutual.” Tim cleared his throat and glanced down the alley. “So…food?”

“Yes. Food.”

“Where to?”

“I mean I’m a cheap date.” Conner replied. “I’d be cool with some O’Shaughnessy’s.”

“What, no Iceberg Lounge?” Tim asked.

“Funny,” Conner rolled his eyes.

Tim thought for a moment. “I could actually _really_ go for some dim sum.”

“Dim wha?”

“Dim sum. It’s a type of Chinese food. Specifically Cantonese. It’s bite-sized portions of food, usually dumplings served in bamboo steamers and served with tea—”

Conner put up a hand. “Hold up, Timmypedia. You had me at Chinese food.”

“Cool,” Tim started off toward the boulevard. “Turns out I know a place that’s not far.”

Conner watched him for a moment before rushing to catch up. He loitered a pace or so behind Tim before reaching out at taking Tim’s hand in his and threading their fingers together. Tim glanced over at him and Conner offered him a skittish smile in reply. Tim grinned, feeling like the billionaire he actually kind of was.

But once they were out on the street and he saw the flow of people, thought of their picture being plastered to newspapers, magazines and news clips he tensed. He wondered what people would think. He wondered if they’d be met with glares and ignorant comments. He felt insanely open and vulnerable.

It was weird. Tim knew it was weird. He shouldn’t care. He faced down thugs and super villains on a regular basis with nothing but his training and wit. He swung from the tops of buildings. He looked death right in the face more times than he could count. But _this…_ this felt different. He still wasn’t used to being in the public eye the way Bruce was. He was still adjusting. Plus the whole being _out_ thing was new too.

He released his grip on Conner’s hand and shoved his hands into his pockets. Conner looked over at him, his features drooping before he gave him a nod, putting his own hands in his pockets. Tim felt like a complete asshole.

_And you already suck as a boyfriend…_

He moved in close to Conner so that their elbows and arms bumped together as they made their way down the sidewalk. It wasn’t holding hands, but it was something. He could get there. He just needed some time. He knew he should say that to Conner. He knew communication was key. Still he kept his disgrace filled silence.

They made their way to the restaurant neither of them saying a word. The place was crowded like it always was, forcing them to lean against a wall and wait for a table. The majority of their time waiting was spent in silence and Tim internally trying to keep himself from freaking out and thinking that this date was already ruined before it had really begun.

When they were finally called back to a booth Conner chose to sit across from him. Tim wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Was it a sign that Conner was mad at him or was it a show of understanding? Couples on a date usually sat next to one another, right? He and Step had usually sat next to each other.

After ordering some tea Conner finally spoke up, flopping his menu down.

"You're gonna have to help me out here, dude. I got no idea what this shit is."

Tim laughed. Laughter was good. Laughter was something normal between them. It helped pull Tim out of his head.

“It’s all pretty delicious. You typically share, you know, family style.”

“Cool, you pick.” Conner leaned back in the booth and smirked. “I trust you.”

Relief washed over Tim. “How hungry are you?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

Several minutes later, a half dozen bamboo steamers, a bowl of sticky rice, and a pot of green tea between them and Tim’s shame from the hand holding incident began to fade. It was replaced by friendly teasing and Conner’s excited dive into the world of Chinese dumplings. Things felt okay between them again.

Conner stared at baked barbecue pork bao clutched in his hand. “I’m so pissed at you.”

Tim almost choked on the har gow he had just taken a bite of, little bits of steamed shrimp threatening to clog his esophagus.

“Why the hell haven’t you brought me here before?” Conner demanded biting enthusiastically into the dumpling. “Seriously. What the hell?”

Tim recovered and resumed eating his own morsel. “You always want burgers and pizza. Thought it was your thing.”

Conner rolled his eyes. “I eat plenty of other stuff.”

“Okay, and pie.”

“Whatever.”

“Stick with me and I'll introduce you to all kinds of other awesome kinds of food.”

“Is that a relationship bribe?”

“Maybe…”

They lapsed into silence again as they ate.

“So, uh, how long’d you know?” Conner asked around a mouth full of bao.

Tim quirked an eyebrow.

“You _know…_ that you were cool with…being with dudes.”

Tim did his best to feign a nonchalant shrug, feeling instead like he was under and interrogation light. “Umm, awhile I guess. I mean, as a kid I kinda had a little crush on Dick but that was more like idol worship I guess. I always liked girls too though and that was…easier. Less complicated.”

“Less complicated.”

Tim shrugged again. “Yeah, my life has always been complicated enough without adding dating guys to it. You’re really the only guy I even thought about having a relationship with.”

Conner grinned wolfishly and waggled his eyebrows. “Cause you’re all in love with me and stuff.”

Tim could seriously not recall a period in his life where he had blushed this much. “Something like that.” He took a sip of his tea. “What about you?”

It was Conner’s turn to get awkward and look away. “Uh, like two weeks ago, when you kissed me, dude. Seriously never even crossed my mind before. But with you…” he made an inelegant gesture with his hands. “It’s different.”

“So you're pansexual?" Tim queried helpfully.

Conner's brows scrunched.

"Sapiosexual? Heteroflexible?" Tim continued with a grin.

"Are there seriously _that_ many terms now!?" Conner gaped.

"Maybe it’s more of a…singular same sex attraction?” Tim supplied.

Conner burst into surprised laughter. “That…that is actually uncannily accurate.”

Under the table Conner extended a leg and hooked his ankle around one of Tim’s and offered a small, hopeful grin. Tim smiled back despite his breath hitching. He might not be ready for holding hands above the table but this was a pretty good start.

"It's like being told you can dip your fries in a shake." Conner explained as he reached across the table with his chopsticks and stole one of Tim's potstickers and dipped it in Tim's saucer of soy sauce before stuffing it in his mouth with gusto and licking his lips. "At first you think it's nuts, but then you try it and it's amazing and you wonder how you were never doing it before." His foot rubbed up Tim's leg for emphasis.

Tim snorted a laugh feeling more in love than he could ever remember being. "Only you could turn this into a food analogy, Conner."

His best friend winked at him and stole another potsticker and dunked it in chili sauce this time. His foot continued to move along Tim's leg under the table. Tim had no idea how the hell Conner had been able to just accept this and dive right in. Tim had been struggling with this part of himself his whole life. He had hidden it.

The waitress walked up with a fresh pot of tea. Her eyes monetarily glanced under the table, no doubt catching sight of the game of footsie taking place under the table between the two teens. Conner’s eyes searched Tim’s face, as if expecting something or perhaps afraid of something. Tim bit his bottom lip but didn’t move his leg. Conner grinned.

“Can I get you anything else?” The woman asked as she replaced their teapot.

“Spring rolls.” Conner replied. “I could totally go for more spring rolls.”

###

Conner couldn’t focus. He was _supposed_ to be watching giant robots beat the crap out of giant monsters but he couldn’t keep his attention on the screen. All he could think about was Tim sitting next to him. Tim who’d left the armrest up. Tim who was so close their shoulders were pressed together. It was driving Conner crazy. Tim had suggested a movie and everyone _knew_ movie dates were for making out. Right? It was like a relationship tradition or something.

A few hours ago Conner would have bet the farm that was the case. But things had gotten weird again. He and Tim had gone from hot and heavy in the alley to Tim being embarrassed about holding hands out in public. Things had gone back to semi-normal but now Conner wasn’t sure if Tim would want to kiss in a movie theater where people might see. He had thought they'd had the whole affection and making out thing down.

The entire situation left Conner feeling a little rejected and a little irritated. This whole thing had been Tim’s idea after all.

Conner didn’t know what the hell to do. It was made worse by the fact that he couldn’t talk to the one person he would normally talk to about this kind of thing because that very person was now the cause of the confusion.

Finally, Conner decided to act. That's what he did. Tim knew what he was signing up for. Conner was not good at thinking. That was Tim’s department. He was the doer. So he made big show of yawning and stretched his arms over his head bringing one around Tim’s shoulders as he brought them back down.

_The old yawn and stretch move. Works every time._

There was a sudden rigidness to Tim that was gone so quickly Conner wasn’t sure if it had been an illusion of his own self-conscious imagination or not. But then Tim shimmied against him, pressing closer and resting his against Conner’s shoulder.

 _Yeah, works every time._ Conner smirked to himself.

“Real smooth, Clone Boy.” Tim whispered.

Conner would have liked to have said he went in for the kill then. But despite his success he was still hesitant to go the extra mile. So he contented himself with an arm full of Timothy Drake-Wayne and found himself able to reengage with the movie.

"So…what do you wanna do now?" Conner asked as they exited the theater.

The movie had concluded with no kissing and Conner had removed his arm reluctantly when they stood as the credits rolled. He had refrained from any other overt forms of PDA.

Tim shrugged and then glanced up at the skyline. He looked over at Conner with a slanted smile and then looked back toward an alleyway. "Let's fly."

Conner returned the grin and followed him. Once concealed in the shadows he reached out to take Tim by the waist but Tim spun away, hand darting behind his back and suddenly firing a grappling hook and zooming up into the rooftops. Conner chuckled and lifted off after him. Where the hell did Tim keep shit like that anyway?

He chased Tim through the Gotham rooftops. He kept his speed low to make it fair but he also wasn't sure if that was necessary. Tim moved with an uncanny precision and speed and seemed to anticipate Conner's moves before he even knew he was going to make them. Just as Conner would reach out for him Tim would spring away and once even flipped backwards over Conner and dove off of the opposite ledge. Tim really was a tricky bat-freak.

They ended the chase with Tim panting but smiling at the top of a particularly high skyscraper. Tim sat at the edge, one knee curled up while the other dangled lazily over the edge. Conner floated down next to him, pressing their sides together from hip to shoulder.

They just sat there. They talked about their friends, about their families. They made jokes. They kept glancing over at one another and laughing. They looked out over the city and up at the stars.

At some point Conner had reached over and taken Tim's hand and pulled it into his lap so he could run his fingers along the other boys wrist, palm, and fingers; absently exploring. He really liked touching Tim. Because it was _Tim_ and everything about Tim was awesome, he'd always known that and now he got to explore a whole new aspect of the guy it had turned out he'd probably been in love with on some level most of his life (which, relatively speaking, wasn't as long as that made it sound but still a long time).

“Hard to see the stars.” Tim murmured. His head was tilted upward eyes alight and full of life. “Too much light pollution.”

Conner chuckled. That was such a Tim thing to say.

“But you got to admit, she’s fucking beautiful.”

Conner cocked his head in question.

“Gotham.” Tim answered with a small smile, fingers of his free hand brushing hair away from his eyes and tucking it behind his ear.

“Not sure I’d call Gotham beautiful.” Conner replied. He used to think that Metropolis was beautiful, San Francisco too, but lately he’d started to really dig the big open skies of Smallville.  

Yeah, he sometimes didn’t even recognize himself these days either.

Tim’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh she’s beautiful, dangerous, but beautiful. And she sings.” Tim said, voice gossamer-soft like he was sharing a secret.

“Sings?”

“Yeah,” He closed his eyes and inclined his head. “The song of this city is everywhere. All us Bats can hear it. It’s how we know where to be when we’re needed. It’s in the rush of traffic, the blare of sirens, the cooing of pigeons, it’s everything.”

It was rare to see Tim like this, light and almost whimsical. Conner thought he could count the times he’d seen him this way on one hand. In that moment Tim looked unburdened and free. He’d never really get the Bat-clan’s love for this city, but he could at least appreciate how much Tim loved it.

Tim…Tim full of love and light and without care, Conner wasn’t sure there was anything more beautiful than that.

“I dunno,” Conner said after a moment, unable to stop himself. “Maybe you’re finally starting to lose it.”  

Tim nudged Conner with his shoulder at the particularly terrible jab but began to laugh anyway. Conner was kind of in love with that laugh. He was beginning to wonder if that was his purpose in life, to make Tim laugh.

Tim turned his steely eyes on him. Conner felt his breath catch in his throat. He liked how Tim's hair fluttered around his face. He liked how the longer hair actually made his eyes stand out more. In some ways it felt like he was seeing Tim for the first time despite knowing Tim's features so well he could sketch them if he had any talent for that kind of thing.

He heard Tim's heartbeat speed up slightly. Conner grinned at him and angled his head. Tim went stiff and still. Conner's eyes darted down to Tim's mouth and then back up to his eyes. He heard Tim's breath stop. Then Conner was leaning in. The kiss was soft and chaste, totally different from the ones they had been exchanging in the alley earlier that day. Tim was slower to respond than before. Things were complicated between them and Conner was never sure if he was doing this right. He usually just acted but he worried sometimes that he was too pushy or something.

Tim sighed softly and melted into the kiss and Conner reached a hand up and deepened the it by cupping Tim's neck with his hand, catching the bottom of his ear in the groove between his thumb and index finger. Despite all the hurdles and moments of awkwardness, kissing Tim still always managed to feel right. It's how Conner knew this was the right thing.  

Conner pulled back to rest his forehead against Tim's.

“Are you sure about this?” Tim whispered.

Conner felt his heart sink into his gut like a rock. “Tim?”

“About us…about me…”

Conner messaged the back of Tim’s neck with his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“You said it yourself. You’ve never even thought about being with a guy before. I just don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve made a mistake or—”

“For fucks sake, Tim.” Conner pressed a quick kiss to Tim’s lips to shut him up. “I need you to really listen to me here. I love you. I don’t care who or what you are. This isn’t about you being a guy or a girl. This is about _you_ , Tim. I love _you_. I’d love you if you were a goddamn alien—well, an alien that didn’t look all human like a Kryptonian does. You know what I mean." He brought his other hand up to press his palm to Tim's cheek. "Just like you’ve never cared that I’m a clone or that I’ve got Lex Luthor’s genes.”

Tim gulped. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve spent my whole life discovering new things about myself. I’ve pretty much made a career out of integrating those things quickly. I mean I am literally a test tube baby who was born fifteen.”

Tim laughed softly. “Good point.”

“We get that out of the way? No more of this ‘did I turn Conner gay’ or ‘is Conner just confused’ shit.”

“Got it.”

"Good."

He kissed Tim. And this time Tim kissed him back without hesitancy.  

"Okay, next order of business." Conner said.

"You are very dedicated to talking." Tim grumbled.

"One of us has to be. Face it, Boy Wonder, you’re great at a whole lot things—pretty much everything actually—but you kinda suck at talking about these kinds of things."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."

Whatever, man. If we're gonna do this…we're gonna have to tell people eventually."

Tim looked up from under his unreasonably long lashes (seriously, it wasn’t fair how gorgeous Tim was). "Okay…"

"I can't do the secret thing forever. I can't live multiple lives. I'm not you."

Tim nodded.

"I can barely manage two…and my civvie identity is pretty weak sauce." He gestured with a hand at his jeans and plaid shirt.

Honestly, how did he and Clark even think this constituted a disguise? Tim had once lectured him about how it was more about the persona than the clothes or something like that. Tim said that Conner was always Superboy no matter what he wore.

"Your superhero identity could use some work too." Tim japed.

"Oh, bird boy's got jokes." Conner drawled as he nuzzled his nose into Tim's temple.

Seriously, who was he? He hadn't done this sappy shit before, not with Cassie or Tana or any other girl he'd been with. But he fucking loved it. And he knew Tim needed it, like an abused puppy needs petting. Plus he couldn’t get over how much he liked the way Tim smelled. He always had, but now he got to indulge. It was definitely something he didn't remember being that into in other relationships. It was like he could get drunk off of Tim.  

"I'm no Dick Grayson but I've been known to crack wise now and then." Tim replied leaning his head into the affection.

"You're such a weird little old man sometimes." Conner snorted. "For real though, telling everyone scares the shit out of me. Cassie might actually lose it. But I want to do this right, man, and that means not keeping it a secret forever."

"Alright,"

"We don't have to come out and broadcast it tomorrow…just…at some point."

Tim gave another nod and then kissed Conner's cheek. "I can do that. I want to do this right too."

He could tell Tim had more to say, that he was working up the courage to continue onward. He could tell Tim was taking down a wall inside, forcing himself to lean in. Conner stayed silent and just waited, touching Tim's face, carding fingers through his hair.

"Coming out…it scares me." Tim finally forced out. "Telling Bruce and my family…telling Cass and Bart…the whole fucking world knowing…I’ve hidden this part of myself my whole life."

"Dude, you think I'm not scared?" Conner demanded. "I'm scared shitless of your family knowing about us. Batman might actually kill me. I'm worried I'll give Ma a heart attack. And like I said, Cassie might seriously lose it—thanks to you kissing her I might add." Conner added in a teasing whisper.

Tim shoved at him it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t soft either. “But what about the whole world, Conner? You’ve seen how this whole Tam thing blew up. How do you think a Wayne dating a guy is going to go over in the media? How do we explain how we met when you’re a high school student from Kansas and I’m the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne? Are you ready for the social media shit storm? Are you ready for the things people are going to say?”

Conner gave Tim a gentle shake. "Whoa, whoa slow down junior detective, one issue at a time. I get it. I’m dating a Wayne. I’m dating the young CEO of Wayne Enterprises. We are going to be front-page news for a while. Some people are ignorant and gonna gossip and talk shit. Well you know what I say? Fuck'em. We don't owe them shit (they owe us actually since we save the world on the regular) and who cares what they think about us?" He held Tim's face in his hands again to make sure their eyes met. "I'll never be ashamed of loving you."

Tim blinked at him in silent shock for a moment before basically attacking Conner with his mouth, gripping Conner's face in return. It was an urgent kind of kiss with teeth and tongues and panting.  

"Come home with me." Tim breathed in a quiet plea. "Stay the night."

Those words, the gruff, almost begging tone sent a thrill thundering though Conner and he felt it all the way down to his toes and wanted nothing more than to lay Tim down right there and then on that roof. He pushed his tongue into Tim's mouth and nearly pulled him into his lap. He shifted his hands to snake them up under the hem of Tim's shirt to rake across the skin of his back. Tim moaned into his mouth.

"Kon…please..."

"Yes," Conner finally croaked out, his brain managing to come online and form words again. "I want that—I really, _really_ want that. _Jesus_ Tim, I am going to shock you with how fast I get us back to your place."

And that's just what Conner did. He scooped Tim up and enveloped them in a cocoon of his TTK and nearly broke the sound barrier flying back to Wayne Manor. He flew almost as quickly as he had the night Tim had fallen from the window battered and bloody. He touched down on the gravel driveway sending pebbles and dust flying.

Tim hopped out his arms and turned to walk backwards ahead of him. "Consider me shocked."

"I aim to impress."

"So, things have been weird lately." Tim cautioned. "So just…be ready for anything and follow my lead."

"Tim, buddy, you're family is _always_ weird."

"Fair."

Tim got to the front door and opened it with a key and they almost walked right into Batwoman. Tim pulled up short suddenly and Conner walked into his back, balancing himself by gripping Tim's shoulders.

"Kate," Tim greeted in surprise. "What brings you here?"

Keen, forest-hued eyes swept over them both. "Your father. But no sign of him or Alfred or any of your siblings."

Tim tapped the face of the watch at his wrist and a holographic display projected up in front of him. He tapped a few more commands and he nodded. "Doesn't look like Bruce is here but Dick, Babs, and…Jason are in the kitchen. They might know where he’s at."

"Mind showing me the way?" Kate asked with a quirk of her lips. "I'm still afraid I might get lost in here."

"Sure," Tim agreed with a friendly smile and started leading the way.

Conner forced back a groan at the delay in sexy time antics and brought up the rear.

True to Tim's word they found Nightwing, Oracle, and Red Hood seated around the kitchen island. Barbara had a steaming mug of something hot in her hands while Dick and Jason seemed to be sharing a carton of cookie dough ice cream. Jason wore a tattered biker jacket and his red motorcycle helmet was on the table. He was half sitting on his stool and everything about him seemed slightly coiled, like he was ready to bolt at any moment.

There was something weird about seeing the three of them sitting together, the two former Robins and former Batgirl. They were legends, the originals.

Conner still wasn't comfortable around Jason. He'd attacked Tim way too many times for Conner to feel okay with him. Tim insisted that things were getting better, that Jason was getting better. Conner wasn't ready to believe that. He moved past Kate in order to stand close to Tim. He was hovering. He was being overprotective. Tim would tease him. Tim could fucking deal with it.

"Kate," Barbara smiled. "It's good to see you."

Kate smiled but her nod was clipped and quick. It wasn't dismissive it was just efficient as hell. She bore herself with the posture and aura of a military general all straight backed and confident like she owned the room. There was a term for a woman like that: “built like a brick shithouse”.

"Found her lurking out in the foyer." Tim joked, easy as anything.

If he was as anxious about taking things to the next level as Conner was then he was damn good at not showing it.

Which, it was Tim, so duh.

Conner, on the other hand, was doing everything he could to refrain from firing lasers from his eyes or disassembling everything in the vicinity on the molecular level (his TTK game had gotten strong).

"I don't know what to do when Alfred doesn't greet me before I've even gotten my hand on the doorknob." Kate smirked.

"Sorry about that." Dick said. "He's held up in the cave playing babysitter.   Cass is in town and went on patrol with Steph and Damian. It’s probably a bit like herding cats."

"And Bruce?"

Barbara and Dick exchanged a look, speaking without saying words.

"He's…out with Selena."

Kate arched a single slender eyebrow.

Both Dick and Barbara shrugged in unison.

"He told me to be here. He was very specific with the date and time." Kate's arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Yeah, Selena just kinda popped in." Dick explained with a slight wince.

"But we can brief you on what Bruce wanted to speak with your about." Barbara offered. "We were just apprising Jason."

Kate looked between the three of the former sidekicks turned full heroes (except Jason?).

"Don't look at me." Jason grumbled. "I'm only here for the ice cream." He caught Conner looking at him and must have picked up on the protective vibe Conner had no doubt he was giving off. "Got a problem, Luthorlicious?"

"That depends." Conner retorted coolly.

"Kon," Tim cautioned under his breath.

"Eww, checkout the big pants on Super Junior."

Conner frowned.

"Don't worry," Jason drawled, jabbing his spoon into the carton of ice cream and taking a bite. "I'm not here to mess with your precious Timmy Wimmy."

"Eat a dick, Jason." Tim said dryly.

Conner was fuming. Images of Tim beaten at the hands of Jason Todd still lingered in agonizing still frames in his mind.

Jason took his spoon and poked it into Dick's neck who coughed and cringed away. "Been trying to. Babs won’t let me."

"Damn right," Barbara confirmed with a smirk into her mug.

"You got any vanilla?" Kate asked, moving over to the island and taking a seat on one of the stools as though that entire exchange had never happened.

"You want to stick around?" Barbara directed at Tim. "This is going to involve you."

"I've been briefed." Tim replied. "Besides, I promised Conner video games."

"Never seen you so dedicated to having fun." Dick commented from inside the freezer.

Tim shrugged. "We've all changed a lot over the last year."

"Amen," Barbara agreed. "Have fun."

Tim waved and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Umm, bye everyone." Conner gave a small wave.

"Careful with all that super strength." Jason said. "Wouldn't want to break my replacement when you bone him."

Conner's ears felt like they were on fire. His TTK aura reacted, humming like a plucked guitar string.

Tim rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. " _Good night,_ Jason."

"Ow!" Jason cried rubbing furiously at his ear. "What the hell was that for?"

"You know what." Barbara replied evenly.

"Jesus…what the fuck?"

"We're implementing a new behavioral rehabilitation program." Dick informed as he returned to the table, setting the cartoon of vanilla ice cream and spoon in front of Kate. "Babs punishes with fear and pain and _I_ reinforce with cuddles." To demonstrate his point he hooked an arm around Jason's neck and draped himself over the other man's back and rubbed the side of his head against Jason's.

Jason's shoulder's bunched up and his face scrunched into an irritable frown as he resisted the affection. “Maybe I like the punishment and hate the cuddles.” Then it was like a shadow passed over the landscape of Jason’s face. “Besides, since when do you care, Dickie-bird?”

Dick’s response was earnest and hushed. “Since always, Jaybird.” He patted Jason’s chest and then disengaged from him.

“You just never let us.” Barbara added.

Tim grabbed Conner by the wrist and yanked him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

“You’re family…” Conner started.

“Is crazy, I know.”

“I don’t think crazy is a strong enough word.” They climbed the stairs to Tim’s room, which was thankfully on the other side of the Manor. “Do you think Jason knows about us?”

Tim shrugged. “He’s always made jabs to me about us being lovers. So either he’s so perceptive he knew before either of us did or he’s just kind of an asshole.”

“I’m going with option two.”

“He’s—”

“Getting better, yeah, you’ve told me.” Conner rolled his eyes. “You do remember the killing spree he went on after you got him out of prison right?”

"Uhh…"

"Or that time he broke into Titans Tower to fight you? Or hey, what about that time he basically tried to kill you when you were both running around in Batman suits?"

“You weren’t even alive for most of that.”

Conner frowned at him. Because really, Tim?

"Okay, okay…point taken." Tim conceded. “But you heard Dick. He and Barbara got a rehabilitation plan.”

"Yeah, sounds foolproof." Conner said sarcastically.

They both started laughing.

Tim turned to face him as he got to his door. “Call me crazy, but I kinda like you being protective.” He pulled at the front of Conner’s shirt and tugged him into his bedroom.

“You used to complain about it.” Conner retorted as he leaned in and Tim kicked the door shut.

“Ever think I maybe protested a bit too much?”

And then they were kissing. They were kissing and moving. Tim was leading them further into his room. Conner could not fucking breath. They stumbled into something and Tim would have gone crashing backwards if it weren’t for Conner's arm around his waist and a little help from his TTK aura.

 _Tim Drake-Wayne almost tripped._ Conner thought amusedly to himself. _Who'd believe it?_ Conner liked to think that he was having an effect on best friend.

They started laughing again and Tim took a moment to steady himself against Conner and then turned and took him by the hand to lead him toward the bed. Conner pulled up short when he noticed a picture on the bedside table.

He reached out and ran fingers along the thin, silver frame, metal frost-cool and smooth to the touch. It was an older picture. He was smiling wide and sure while Tim just stared straight ahead all, dower and serious. It was so them. It had Conner feeling irritatingly mushy again. That Tim had a picture of them, that he kept it by his bedside…

"I had it printed after you died…" Tim informed, looking everywhere but Conner and the picture. "I told you. I really missed you."

Conner didn't say anything. He went to Tim and held his face in his hands and kissed him soft and slow, angling his mouth over Tim's over and over before gradually deepening it. He didn't know what to say. He felt a lot of things for Tim and all of them were searingly intense. He tried to convey them in the kiss instead.

Tim pulled away and Conner let out a very unmanly whine of protest. Tim's eyes were locked on the floor. It was suddenly ghost-quiet in the room. The only sounds the frenetic drumming of their hearts and whispered whirr of the ceiling fan above them. The atmosphere was charged and alive with something that had Conner tense and holding his breathe.

Tim reached out, eyes still lowered and bottom lip held between his teeth. His nimble fingers began unbuttoning Conner's shirt, slow and timid. Conner didn't move. He was suddenly terrified and thrilled all at once, the emotions an avalanche that ripped through him, leaving him paralyzed.

What if he didn't know what to do?

Did Tim know what to do?

Why wasn't Tim going faster?

What if he messed this up?

What if Tim wasn't into it?

What if he wasn't into it?

Why weren't they kissing?

Why couldn't he fucking _move_?

When Tim had finished. He took a deep breath and slid the shirt down off of Conner's shoulders. He stepped back and their eyes finally locked. There was so much between them that Conner worried it would break them. He worried it would burn them up and leave nothing but ashes. He'd never felt like this before.

He saw the decision and determination flash in Tim's grey-blue eyes. He released his bottom lip from between his teeth and reached down and pulled his t-shirt up over his head.

Conner just gawked like an idiot. He took in the strong, rippled lines of muscle under Tim's skin. He took in the network of scars that no guy his age should have. His eyes rested on the freshly healing gash near his sternum, a parting gift from Ra's Al Ghul.

Tim was strong. Tim was vulnerable. Tim was so fucking beautiful it was like an icy stab to his gut.

"You're so amazing." He muttered stupidly.

He reached out and touched a scar just under Tim's shoulder, the pads of his fingers sliding along the soft, raised flesh. It was an old bullet wound most likely. Tim shivered and closed his eyes. Then Conner moved to another scar, this one long and angry and jagged where it ran along the inside of his bicep. He leaned forward and kissed another scar just below Tim's collarbone.

Tim hissed. "Conner…"

Somehow Conner knew what Tim was saying. He straightened and pulled his own t-shirt off. His own skin was a creamy, pure canvas compared to Tim's. He reached out and grabbed Tim by the belt and pulled him closer. He asked the question with his eyes. Tim nodded and Conner began undoing his belt the leather swishing as it snaked through denim. His fingers curled at the waist of Tim’s jeans.

Tim’s breathing had become serrated. His heart rate had kicked up its pace another notch.

Conner sent a buzzing flow of TTK to the tips of his fingers knowing he’d fumble with button and zipper otherwise. And then Tim’s jeans were sliding down his waist and then down his legs, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in nothing but his short, black boxer briefs. His arousal was evident and straining under the dark cotton. Conner thought he might explode.

Tim’s hands quivered when they went to Conner’s belt but his ninja skills made short work of Conner’s remaining clothing. And then Conner was agonizingly aware of his own hardness and the tent he was currently pitching. They glanced down at one another and then back up again and smiled.

Conner stepped out of his jeans just as Tim stepped toward him. They collided in a clap of bare skin, writhing against one another, kissing, canting their hips and searching for friction. And then the underwear was gone, and it was all skin and sweat. It was hot and absolutely mind-blowing.

Conner lowered the TTK aura that always surrounded him, protected him. He let it fall away like smoke on the wind. He left himself open and exposed. Because he wanted nothing to be in the way of them, he wanted to feel everything. Because he was with Tim and he was always safe with Tim.  

Conner fell back on the bed and pulled Tim down after him, refusing to allow any distance between them. He seriously had no idea what he was doing but it didn't really matter because Tim was kissing him like he was something precious and wonderful. He was rubbing against him and he was warm and perfect. And somehow that was enough.

How could that be enough? How could that alone have him squirming and curling his toes and stuttering apart at the edges? It shouldn't have been possible, but that was exactly what was happening.

There was so much sensory input. He could feel Tim, he could smell him, he could hear him, and he could taste him. He could sense the effect he was having on him. He knew he was just as inexplicably affected.

That he could make Tim feel that good, that he had him squirming desperately against him made Conner’s own pleasure even more exquisite.

He must have blacked out at some point or something because the next thing he knew his vision was spotted and his whole body was alight with shuddering ecstasy. Tim was gasping his name and what Conner thought might be “I love you” as their mouths grappled sloppily.

They were a sticky mess. Conner had never felt so fucking good.

Tim collapsed on top of him, and buried his face in the crook of Conner’s neck. After a long while he lifted up onto his forearms and looked down at Conner, his eyes glazed and face flushed and coated in a sheen of sweat. His hair clung to his damp skin and Conner brushed it back. They started to giggle. There was no other word for it. They just broke into the burbling giggle of blissed-out fools.  

###

"I wanna stay here with you." Conner hummed into the top of Tim's head, fingers never ceasing their leisurely skimming up and down Tim's back.

They’d spent the entire night alternating between sleep and enthusiastically experimenting with this new form of sexual expression.

"I know," Tim's voice vibrated through Conner's neck as he spoke, his lips and breath warm against the skin. "I want you to too."

“Let’s just tell everyone were staying here in bed forever. No more crime fighting. No more school. Just you, me, and a bed—and food, definitely food.”

He couldn’t see him but Conner knew Tim was smiling.

“Sounds perfect.” Tim’s voice was dreamy with fatigue and satiation.

“A goddamn dream come true.”

“Yeah.”

"But I really need to go. I wouldn't want any of the Bats to find me here in a compromising position." Conner admitted. And that truly was a horrifying thought. "And I don't want to make Ma worry."

“Just five more minutes.” Tim protested, wiggling as though he could somehow get closer than he already was.

“Okay,” Conner smiled, pressing his lips to Tim’s hair and noting the lightening of the sky from a velvety navy to a kindling lavender. “Five more minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are likely to be slower going forward. I have lots of ideas about where to go and how to do that and need some time make that all gel into something coherent. This is what happens when your one shot turns into something bigger.


	5. A Hollow Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Conner work a mysterious case and go toe to toe with Mad Hatter and the Wonderland Gang. They meet a mysterious new costumed meta in the process. Is this new comer friend or foe? Will Tim and Conner stop sucking face long enough to do their jobs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy freaking plot, Batman! So consider this act 2 of this fic. The main focus will or course be our favorite couple of lovebirds but there will now be a mystery, other characters from the batfam, and action. Hope you all like what's coming!
> 
> As always, I don't own this setting or the characters yada, yada, yada. Comments and constructive criticism is adored. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my bad.
> 
> P.S. over 100 kudos! WTF! You guys are amazing and I am literally overwhelmed by the love and support (morphs into a puddle joy and embarrassment). Thanks so much and enjoy!

This scene felt familiar.  A memory plucked from out of the past, like a photo from a darkroom line, and deposited to overlay the present.  It left Tim with an odd sense of deja vu from where he was leaning out from a cell tower.  One leg was fully extended and locked while the other was loose and bent.  But rather than looking through a pair of binoculars, he was starring through the holo-lenses of his mask and surveying the building below via the feed his drone was providing.

 

The city was different.  It wasn’t Gotham.  It was raining.  The song of Chicago was unlike Gotham's.  It was a different harmony, a different cadence.  It was like listening to a song in a second language.  You might be able to understand the words but it didn’t resonate in your bones or permeate your dreams the way your mother tongue always would.  

 

And then there was Conner.  Conner was here, which was familiar.  He was hovering a few feet away.  He was bored.  That too was familiar.  When he was bored Conner teased and cracked jokes.  And that was also familiar.  But gone was his undercut and earring.  Gone was the jumpsuit, leather jacket and thigh holster.  Instead there was jeans and a black t-shirt.  The content of teasing was also different.

 

"Have I told you how much I like your new costume?"  Conner inquired, floating in close.

 

Tim couldn't see him due to the holo-lenses still providing him the feed from the drones cameras but he could smell him and feel the ever present heat that wafted off of him.  That was plenty distracting all on its own.  Tim huffed and double tapped at his mask, switching off the feed.  If Conner was going to distract his other senses Tim might as well look at him.

 

"Only about three hundred and seventeen times."  Tim drawled with an exacerbated sigh. 

 

The corner of Conner’s mouth curled up and his head tilted forward.  His voice was soft and intimate.  ”I like your new costume."

 

"Three hundred and eighteen.” 

 

"I hated the other one."  Conner continued, undeterred.  "The cowl kinda made you  look like a giant condom." 

 

Tim pressed his lips together to suppress the smile and hold in the laughter.  He was failing miserably.

 

"This," Conner flew out a pace and spread his arms to emphasis Tim's full layout.  "Is waaay better."  He winked.  " _Sexy_."

 

Tim blushed.  He wondered if that would ever stop.  He and Conner had been together for over a month now.  They had had sex (or an approximation of it.  There were still some things they hadn't done yet, or one _specific_ thing.  He wasn’t certain they _would_ do that).  Conner had seen him naked.  He had seen Conner naked (which…whoa…).  Conner had said some of the most profound—and sometimes decidedly dirty—things Tim had ever heard.  But still his constant praise and flirting brought that rush of heat to Tim's face every time, it kicked up flurries of butterflies in his gut.  Some part of Tim refused to believe that this was real.  Some part of him still seemed to be waiting for him to wake up from some cruel, delusional fantasy.  He couldn’t help thinking the other shoe was going to drop at any moment.  

 

So Tim was a cynic.  Sue him.  

 

"So glad you approve."  Tim kept his tone dry in spite of his blushing.   

 

Tim's new suit _was_ fairly different from the last one.  Conner had been right (not about the giant condom thing…okay, maybe that too).  Tim _had_ been punishing himself with the suit and mantle of Red Robin.  He had been evoking the symbolism of the failed Robin (sorry, Jason).  It was time for that to change.  Tim wasn't Bruce.  He wasn't any of his brothers.  He was his own man.  Being Red Robin wasn't supposed to be permanent but there really wasn't a place for another Robin and Tim was surprised to find that he'd grown to like the new title.  Now it was time to truly make it his own. 

 

The new suit employed a domino mask again which covered more of his face than his previous ones had.  He'd kept the crisscrossing bandoliers but opted for a shorter cape that extended to the backs of his knees.  The suit was composed of less leather but was still padded and armored in the important places.  It was also short-sleeved and left his biceps bare, which was a change, but he liked it. The colors, of course, remained red and black.   

 

"Alfie does good work."  Conner noted.  "Maybe I should get him to sketch up something for me."

 

"You mean a _real_ costume."  Now Tim’s smile had broken free.

 

Conner was moving in close again, like Tim was a gravity well and he couldn’t help it.  “Yeah, _that_ joke never gets old."

 

"Nope."

 

"Whatever, dude."

 

Tim let out a long breath, trying to fortify himself.  “Hey, you do know we're on a stakeout, right?”  He lifted a single eyebrow.  "You're kinda distracting me."

 

Conner's shoulders slid up in a careless shrug.  "I can hear everything going on down there, not a peep."  He glanced over his shoulder.  "Besides, you got that fancy drone flying around keeping watch too.  Relax, Little Chum."

 

That last phrase.  It was a line directly out of their past.  Two idiot teens.  One serious and focused.  The other rebellious and looking for a place in the world.  Tim couldn’t resist keeping the nostalgia going, trapped in the unseen current of their shared history.  

 

"We don't kill.  We don't kill.  We don’t—”

 

Conner's kiss was sudden and insistent and Tim didn't even offer up a token resistance.  He just melted into it and allowed himself to be distracted.  He slung an arm around Conner’s shoulders and reeled him closer.  The other teen growled out a happy sound from his throat and his hands went to either side of Tim’s waist gripping the bars of the tower, locking Tim in.  

 

Tim should have known better than to invite Conner on missions.  Bruce would not approve even if they weren't technically breaking his damn meta moratorium since they weren’t in Gotham.  Still, Tim should have known better.  Conner distracted him far too easily and on more than one occasion Tim was actually the one guilty of initiating the distraction while they were working.  As it turned out, Conner made him a little crazy.

 

Conner pressed in closer pushing Tim up against the tower.  The soft sprinkle of rain made everything slippery and hot.  It was one of _those_ nights.  Sometimes they could kiss and touch for hours, soft and sweet, content to just feel one another and be close.  Other times it was all fire and the slick, wet slide of tongues and the desperate thrust of hips and clawing of fingers.  At times like that they couldn’t seem to get their cloths off fast enough and there was only one way it could end.  

 

Unfortunately, it was that kind of night, which meant distraction was going be even more of a risk than usual.  

 

"I think I'm going to tell Dick."  Tim said after they parted to catch their breath.  He both wanted to share that decision with Conner and hoped it would sober them up a bit.

 

"Really?"  Conner asked, not moving away, lips still brushing Tim’s as they spoke.

 

Tim soldiered on, clearing his throat.  ”Yeah, he's the most reasonable option."

 

Conner smirked at him and pulled his head back to meet his eyes.  "You made a spreadsheet or an algorithm, didn't you."  

 

Tim's eyes darted down.  "Maybe…”

 

"Didn't need any fancy equations to tell you Dick would be the safest option."  Conner began holding up fingers as he counted.  "Steph is still in love with you so that was a fast track to a brick to your face.  Damian could give a Bat-cow shit about what you and I do.  Jason would probably blackmail you.  Cass is sweet but has, like, zero relationship chops—"

 

"Plus you've kissed her."  Tim noted with a teasing grin.

 

Conner waved him off without addressing said kiss.  "Barb..."  Conner stopped and hummed to himself.  "Well...I guess Barb would be a solid number two if Dick was ruled out."

 

"I was thinking about talking to her after Dick or even her and Dick.”  

 

Tim’s plan had worked and he felt the fog of lust easing back and allowing him to think past one singular (and inappropriate) objective.

 

"Batwoman might be a good option.”  Conner suggested.  “I hear she, uh...has a similar orientation or whatever."

 

"She's a lesbian, Kon.  Her tastes are probably more closely aligned with yours...you heteroflexible ass."

 

"And half of yours."  Conner quipped.

 

Tim was going to say something snarky but Conner had basically mastered stopping him with kisses.

 

"Bart was also out of the question.  He can't keep his mouth shut."  Tim continued once he escaped Conner's insistent lips.

 

"Along with Cassie who will definitely, probably murder us when she finds out." 

 

"Not to mention Bruce and Clark."  Tim muttered.

 

"I've been thinking about them."  Conner said.  "Maybe it's a good idea to tell them together along with Ma."

 

Tim's eyebrows felt like they might shoot clear off his forehead.  "That is three potential hostiles against two.  Bad odds."

 

"Maybe we need to stop looking at them like they're hostiles."  Conner persisted.  "They're our _family_.  Besides, odds are that _one_ of them will be cool with it and then it's three on two."

 

Tim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "We're moving too far ahead of ourselves.  One thing at a time.  Let me talk to Dick…maybe Babs too. Let me get some advice and then we'll go from there."

 

There was a buzz through the comms as the drone detected movement.  

 

"I hear it too."  Conner turned to look down at the building below.  "At least a dozen guys heading up to the roof.”

 

The feed from the drone blinked back into Tim's vision highlighting bodies via the infrared lenses on the drone.  "Just like I thought.  It's Mad Hatter and the Wonderland Gang."

 

"Soooo _lame_."  Conner groaned.  "Who the hell models themselves after Lewis Carol book?”

 

"Someone who has a genius level intellect and severe psychosis."  Tim replied.

 

"Still, dude, what the actual fuck?"

 

"Because King Shark is so much cooler."  Tim deadpanned.  "Okay, remember, this guy deploys mind control via the hat he wears."

 

"Yeah, yeah Suberboy and mind control don't mix."

 

"So we go for the hat first and foremost."

 

"Got it."

 

"But he's also a master hypnotist so even without the hat he can be dangerous."

 

"We got this."

 

"I'm not so sure."  Tim replied.  "They're smuggling a new drug called Zing.  It gives the user meta abilities for a time.  Who knows how many members of his gang are packing powers or what kind of powers.  That's a lot of unknown variables.  I hate unknown variables.“

 

"That's why you brought you telekinetic, BF."  Conner patted Tim's cheek playfully.  "Let's go say 'hi'."

 

"Plan first."  Tim said, pulling Conner back by the collar of his t-shirt.

 

Conner grumbled loudly.  "Get the hat from the little guy.  Baddies go down.  Punch whoever's left.  We take the baddies back to Gotham.  Mission accomplished.  We get to enjoy some sexy time as a reward.”  He spun in a circle mid-air.  "There.  Planing done."

 

Tim stared at him for a moment before sighing.  "As tactically brilliant as that sounds, I've got a different approach."

 

"Shock..."

 

"I go in first."  Tim said, ignoring Conner's sarcasm.  "They'll be expecting someone from the Batman Inc.  I run interference, see if I can get us an idea of what powers we might be up against.  You hang back and when I give the word you take Hatter's hat."

 

"Why do I have to be the one who hangs back?"  Conner whined.

 

Tim leaned forward and pecked him with the exaggeration of a cartoon character.  "Because you're my trump card."

 

"I want a new plan."

 

"Oh, _now_ you want to plan."  Tim retorted as he leapt from the tower past Conner and soared down toward the rooftop across from them.

 

His cape spread out wide as the low electric current went through the memory cloth, pulling the fabric taught, catching the wind, and allowing Tim to glide.  He switched the holo-lenses of his mask to infrared and readied a shuriken.  

 

Hatter's goons were all wearing those creepy white rabbit masks that looked like something out of a Tim Burton acid trip.  Just as Conner had said.  At least twelve, all armed with automatic weapons.   Shouldn't be a problem for Tim on his own.  Hatter was the problem.  He'd upped his game with the neurointerface of his hat.  He could control minds with electromagnetic frequencies from the hat now.  Tim had taken precautions and brought his own psi-blocking tech as protection but it was all a matter of frequencies and it wouldn't be an ironclad defense.  Conner had no such defense against that kind of attack.  And all the Supers seemed to have a special weakness for psychic attacks.  That was why he'd kept Conner back.  If Hatter got control of Conner this would end quickly and really, really badly.  

 

The other issue was what they'd be up against in regards to possible meta abilities that members of the gang could be sporting because of that new drug.  Tim really did hate unknown variables.  

 

He threw his shuriken once he was in range.  The weight and form of the projectile was familiar and he was glad he'd made the choice to go back them rather than sticking with the discs.  The shuriken arched toward Hatter who was barking orders at his men.  He hoped against hope that he'd get lucky and take the hat out of play right from the start.  

 

He held his breath.  The air rushed past him and rain spattered against his face as he continued his descent toward them.  The shuriken zipped closer, silky-silent as it flew.  

 

_C'mon, C'mon..._

 

It was so close.

 

There was a sudden clang of metal on metal and a whirl of black smoke as the shuriken clattered away harmlessly.

 

"So much for luck."  Tim grumbled out loud, mostly to himself, but knowing Conner could hear him.

 

He was close now.  He hurled a smoke pellet into the center of the thugs and it erupted into a puffy, grey plume immediately.  He dove into it, rolling as he came down on the roof.  He whipped his staff out, the weapon telescoping as he swung it in an arch that sent the legs of one of the gunmen out from under him.

 

Tim's lenses allowed him to see perfectly in the gloom his smoke had caused but he deliberately perked his sense of hearing out of habit.

 

Confusion reigned.  Shouts rang out and there was the unmistakable click of bullets moving into chambers.  Tim flowed into the tide of battle, easy as slipping into a warm bath.  He caught the rifle of one man and simultaneously kicked the back of his knee then tossed the weapon aside.  He spun from there into a kick that connected the back of his booted heel to the jaw of another goon.  He felt the crunch of bone and the give of teeth reverberate up into his leg.  

 

"Oh me, oh my, a stray bat has come out to play."  Jervis, mocked in his typical lilting, manic tone. 

 

Tim flipped over a man who had taken aim at him, hooking his staff under the man’s chin as he went and using his momentum the hurl the man over his back and into one of his companions.  No one had used any meta powers yet but there was a rapid, chirping beep coming from Tim's mask indicating that Jervis was trying to manipulate his mind and his psi-dampener was working overtime.  

 

Tim swung his staff in a shallow arc that brought it into contact with one man cheek and sent him to his knees.

 

"Let's up the fun, shall we?"  The Mad Hatter's tone turned sinister as he smirked with crooked, yellow teeth.  “Hippity, hop!”

 

The posture of all his goons suddenly shifted.  They became coiled and Tim recognized the military stances.  Likely American special operations if Tim were going to bet.  Gone was the frantic confusion and in its stead were attacks that were coordinated and unified putting Tim momentarily on the defensive.  Still, he didn't call Conner in.  He wanted to get the measure of these men and the sudden change in them.  He knew Conner was probably vibrating with impatience.  It was a testament to how much he had matured that he hadn’t gone against Tim’s plan and charged in already.

 

Tim swung a roundhouse kick as the man on the ground began to rise again.  Instead of the usual give of flesh and bone Tim felt the jarring flash of pain that came with striking a boulder.  It sent him off balance and he ducked just in time to avoid a strike meant for his head from the butt of a rifle and tumbled over his shoulder to his right.

 

His mind spun.  Had he hit the guys helmet?  No, he had aimed his attack at the man's cheek and he had been precise.  His mind replayed the moment in rapid-fire reels.  The man had placed his hand on the concrete rooftop, he was one the few not wearing any gloves.  Tim's mind calculated variables:  the pain in his shin, the amount of resistance he felt from his attack, known meta abilities.  

 

Tim redirected a blow with his staff that was aimed at his kneecap.

 

 _Likely some from of density shifting that is based on touch and matter._   Tim hypothesized.

 

He knocked a rifle out of a woman's grasp and dropped low to sweep her legs out from beneath her.

 

Was there a limit based on surface volume or density?  Was the shift skin only or whole body?

 

There was also the smoky apparition that had blocked his shuriken to consider and any number of additional powers.  He placed one piece of his mind to work on the patterns and data he was collecting just as a more primal part of his mind screamed at him.  He spun around and opened the bullet shield of his staff with a press of a button.  He was just in time to deflect a crimson blast of energy that sent him stumbling a step backwards.

 

_Energy projection.  Not electrical…thank god…_

 

He whirled and used his shield to bash yet another foe, barreling them over backwards.

 

“Little birdie, why the malice?  Wont you be my new Alice?”  Hatter continued his looney ranting.

 

And holy shit was that last bit creepy.

 

Tim jumped backwards and evaded the fist of a man who had leapt at him.  The offending fist collided with the rooftop and the ground below moaned as it cracked.  

 

 _Super-strength._   Tim noted.

 

He leapfrogged over the man, kicking both his feet into the gut of another rushing assailant.

 

The part of his brain that had been set to analyzing attack patterns and powers supplied him with enough information to make him feel comfortable playing his very dashing trump card. 

 

"Go get'em, Clone Boy."  Tim whispered with a hint of a grin.

 

There was a rush of air as Superboy zipped in.  There was a very high squeak from Jervis as his top-hat was snatched from his head.  The irritating beep from Tim’s psi-dampener finally stopped.  The troops all froze in place as if in a daze.  Tim had hoped they’d have just passed out like they usually did.  Luck was definetly not on their side tonight.

 

Conner hovered a few feet away, spinning the hat on one finger and smirking.  "Hey, Hatter, Johnny Depp called.  He wants his hat back."

 

Tim rolled his eyes at the lame joke.  But still chuckled under his breath.

 

The Mad Hatter sneered at Conner.  His teeth threatening seeming as though they might shatter under the sheer pressure of that vicious expression.  “Oh lookie, the little red birdie brought a buddy.  Time to change the rules."

 

Before either of them could process what Jervis had said that swirl of smoke was back and had snatched the hat back.  Conner sputtered in surprise and the hat landed back on Jervis' head.

 

_Shit!  Shit!  Shit!_

 

"Now," Hatter grinned manically.  "How about you fetch me a bird, Superbrat."

 

Conner's face contorted in pain and he dropped heavily out of the sky and onto his knees.  His hands shot to the sides of his head and his teeth ground violently together.  "No!"

 

"Everyone gives in eventually."  Hatter taunted.  “But perhaps some physical stimuli will soften up your psyche and speed you on your way to Wonderland.”

 

The goons were on the move again and two made straight for Conner the one with super strength and the density shifter.  Tim turned and raced to intercept the two advancing on Conner.  Conner was potentially defenseless.  His TTK was what made him invulnerable and strong.  It came from his mind.  While resisting Jervis it was likely that field was down, leaving him open.

 

Tim fired a bat-hook at the back of the density shifter.  The claw clutched the back of the man’s tactical vest.  It pulled Tim toward him and tugged the man backwards and onto his ass.  But again the black smoke interfered.  This time Tim caught sight of a katana and a flash of green as the sword sliced through his line.  Tim didn’t miss a beat and his feet hit the roof running.  He kept a wary eye on the smoke as it whirled about like a cobra preparing to strike.  His mind compiled what he knew about it.  It was fast and whoever it was, was invisible the rest of the time and possibly intangible.  The smoke was likely the medium between the physical world and wherever the user was the rest of the time.  It was some kind of phasing ability.     

 

Conner cried out as a fist collided with his jaw and sent him lurching to his side.  Blood seeped from a cut in his lip.  Tim had been right.  His TTK field was down or waining.  

 

He hurled a shuriken, aiming for Conner’s attackers rather than the smoke.  On cue, the smoky assailant intervened.  This time however, the projectile exploded on impact of the sword that was attempting to bat the shuriken away.  The blast knocked his opponent backwards.

 

"Cheshire," Tim noted.  Tim had thought she’d gone straight after becoming a mom.  Either something changed or the Mad Hatter had worked his mind control on her somehow.  She was also sporting phasing powers which was new.

 

Tim landed a smack to her masked face with his bo-staff as he vaulted over her and continued his dash toward Conner.  The density shifter turned on him as he closed in and swung a right cross.  Tim ducked the attack and continued past but not before slapping a snap flash to the man’s back, right between his shoulder blades.  The man reached at it wildly as Tim brought his forearm down into the side of the guy with super-strengths neck.  The man staggered to the side as Tim slipped in front of him and jabbed him in the sternum with the end of his staff and shoved him toward his comrade.  As the two assailants collided Tim detonated the snap flash and the blast sent both men flying in a white-hot flash.  

 

Tim immediately turned his attention on Conner but his boyfriend held out a hand to halt him.

 

“Don’t!”  He gritted out.  “Not safe.”

 

“Hang in there, handsome.”  Tim whispered.  “I’ll think of something.”

 

He had to get to the hat.  Cheshire was up and would be back on defense and the rest of the troops were rallying around their deranged ringleader.  This had gotten bad.

 

“Tick tock, Superboy.”  Hatter cackled.  “How long will you prolong?”

 

Okay, the damn nursery rhymes were getting fucking old.

 

Conner roared out like a wounded animal and Tim’s psi-dampener squealed in alarm.  Jervis was upping the anti.  Tim’s ears were ringing with the noise from his tech and Conner’s cries.  He had to do something but he was having trouble thinking.  Everything was so damn _loud_.  How had he let it all go to hell so bad?  He was preparing to just dive into the fray and planning be damned when silence fell over them like a heavy blanket.  Tim felt his brain lighten up and Conner sucked in a relieved gasp.  

 

There was a rustle of rustling fabric, the familiar sound of memory cloth catching air to cushion a fall.  A masked figured landed in the midst of the Wonderland Gang.  With the masked figure came chaos.  The gang members all began to scream and clutch at their own heads.  

 

Even Jervis brought one hand to the side of his head and snarled viciously.  “Naughty, naughty who is this third party?”  His voice lowered into a growl.  “I _hate_ psychics!”

 

And wasn’t that just fucking hypocritical.  Tim noted to himself.  Conner was getting to his feet and cracked his knuckles.  

 

“I am going to pummel that little fucking leprechaun.”  Conner promised angrily.  “Who’s the new guy?”

 

“No clue.”

 

Their possible ally was currently displaying noticeable fighting skill as he wove through the superpowered gang, with twin sai in hand.  Tim noted that his strikes, while deadly and quick, were not attempting to be fatal.   

 

“Well, we’ll thank him later.”  Conner said as he flew over to his two attackers from earlier as they rose.  

 

His fist connected with the density shifter’s gut causing the man to gurgle and spittle to fly from his mouth.  Conner caught the man with super-strength by the throat and slammed him down hard into the roof, leaving a human shaped crater beneath the man.

 

Tim’s pressed a button on his gauntlet causing his drone to fire an electric bolt just as Cheshire phased near Jervis, likely to whisk him away.  She cried out as the stunning streak of electricity jolted through her and she dropped to one knee.  Conner was on the Hatter then, one hand on his neck lifting him up, the other snatching the hat and tossing it to the floor and promptly stomping it with his booted foot.  Jervis cried out in childish protest and reached for his crumpled headwear.  

 

All the troops had stopped attacking and stood around looking dazed but no less dangerous.  That behavior was still ringing warning bells in Tim’s head.  In all his fights with the Mad Hatter the victims of his mind control either snapped out of it once the hats were off or passed out.  These gang members still looked like possible threats.  Had Jervis done something different since upgrading his hat?  It left Tim feeling unsettled.  He jogged to Conner, worried they might be missing something.  

 

“Game over.”  Conner growled.  

 

“Oh, no not yet, my pet.”  Jervis sang.  “Fallow the white rabbit.  Down the rabbit hole you three go.”

 

“No!”  The man in black who had helped them shouted and started running toward Conner and Hatter.

 

Too late Tim saw Hatter press a button on his coat.  There was a sudden blare of alarms.  Some were from the buildings security system.  Some were from cars on the street below.  They blared in a discordant pattern that rebounded against Tim’s eardrums and shuttled down his spine.  The ground seemed to turn to jello.  He felt sick and woozy and his vision swam as the world seemed to turn into a giant lava lamp.   He crumpled over and focused all of his effort into keeping from vomiting.

 

Jervis let out a taunting cackle and Tim knew Conner had been similarly affected.  After a few more moments Tim heard the beating of a helicopters propellers but the world around him continued to swirl, making it difficult to perceive what was actually going on around him.  

 

Then everything screeched into order once again, jerking back into solid reality.  Tim blinked and saw the newcomer standing and staring down at one lone member of Hatter’s gang who lay unconscious at his feet.  Jervis, Cheshire and the rest of their crew were no where to be seen.  

 

Conner was also getting to his feet.  He had been sick and puked up the pizza they had eaten while on stakeout.  Tim wanted to go to him and ensure he was alright but reined that urge in and forced it aside.  Instead ensured his psi-dampeners were online before facing this unknown, psychic quantity.

 

“Sorry,” the masked man actually apologized.  “He rigged the alarms to go off in a pattern that hypnotized us.  I can block most psychic attacks but even I can be affected by that kind of advanced hypnotism.  By the time I got out of it they were making a break for it.  I did manage to get one of their guys, though.”

 

“Why didn’t you snap us out of it sooner?”  Tim demanded in his best Batclan snarl.

 

The other man shrugged.  Now that he was closer to him Tim realized he wasn’t all in black as he had originally thought.  His costume had dark navy-blue accents that almost completely blended with the otherwise black motif he had going.  He wore tactical pants, a lightly armored shirt, and a hooded poncho.  The hood of the poncho was worn up and came down in a sharp point over his brow.  His face was concealed by a neck gaiter that was pulled up over his mouth and nose.  As far as vigilante wear went it was nothing particularly impressive but it was all well made and from quality materials.

 

“Didn’t think about it.  I just reacted.  These guys have been moving shipments for months and I was out of leads and knew I needed to get at least one of their guys so I could… _question_ him.”

 

“You mean read his mind.”  Tim hedged.

 

“Guilty.”  The other man said.

 

Tim continued to monitor the status of his psi-dampener but it was not indicating any telepathic attacks or probes.  Sill, he moved his body into a seemingly relaxed stance that concealed the ease with which he could lash out lightning-quick if need be.

 

Conner had regained some sense of stability and shuffled groggily over to Tim’s side.

 

“Who are you?”  His boyfriend demanded, cutting to the chase.

 

“Uh, I call myself Psi.”  He spun one of the two sai he was wielding expertly around a single finger.

 

“Original.”  Conner muttered none too quietly.

 

“I thought it kinda worked on a couple of levels.”  The newcomer said, sounding suddenly young and sheepish.

 

“You’re league trained.”  Tim noted, changing the subject and working to keep him off balance.

 

“You noticed that did you—of course you did—yeah, it’s complicated, but I am ‘league trained’”  He made exaggerated air quotes around the sai.

 

Conner’s arm folded in front of his chest making him in an approximation of a disapproving Superman.

 

Psi noted the change in posture and sheathed the two sai behind his back.  “Listen, we’re on the same side here.  I’m a good guy, promise.”

 

Conner snorted out a dismissive laugh.  “Cause we’ve never heard that one before.”

 

“I saved you guys!”  He protested.

 

“Could’ve all been a setup.”  Tim supplied.  “Again, wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

“What is this?  Ass hat cop and ass hole cop?”

 

“You obviously haven’t been doing this long.”  Tim concluded.  

 

That illicited a sigh from Psi.  “That obvious?  Shit.”  He straightened up, and pulled back his hood.  “Listen, I’ll show you who I am.  That help?  Bad guys try and maintain secret identities right?  You don’t have to show me who you both are…though…”  His hazel eyes whisked over to Conner.  “You’re thoughts broadcast pretty loudly soooo…yeah.”

 

“Why you little son of a—”  Conner started toward Psi but Tim put a halting hand on his chest.

 

“Easy,”

 

Psi pulled his neck gaiter down revealing that he was in fact fairly young, somewhere close to his and Conner’s age in fact.  He had tan skin which likely indicated some Latino heritage.  He shoulder-length, wavy, chestnut-brown hair that he’d tied back into a low bun.  He wasn’t exactly what Tim had been expecting.

 

“I’m Marko Delgado.”  He offered, smiling shyly and extending a hand.  

 

Conner and Tim shared a brief look before Conner shrugged and took the offered hand and shook it.  Tim followed suit.  

 

“I’m Red Robin.”  Tim informed as she shook his hand.  He jerked a thumb toward Conner.  “This is Superboy.  We’d appreciate you keeping his real name under wraps.”

 

“Yeah, yeah of course.”  The young man nodded.  “I could, uh—you know—teach you how to guard your mind better, keep your thoughts from broadcasting so much.”

 

Conner frowned.  Tim suppressed a chuckle while internally admitting that might not be a bad idea given the number of times Conner’s mind had been hijacked.

 

“You said you’ve been working this case.”  Tim said, guiding the conversation toward safer and more productive waters.

 

“Yeah, for, like, three months or so.”  Marko replied.  “Noticed some unusual gang activity.  They’ve been trafficking things they don’t normally move, lots of different chemicals, almost all of which have some sort of psychoactive function.  I realized it was being shipped to Gotham and that’s what led me here.  So…yeah…here I am.”

 

“I see…” Tim noted carefully.  “Well, thanks for the help.  We’ll take it from here.”

 

Marko rubbed along his jaw with his thumb and index finger.  “Uh, right, but you’re actually gonna need me.”

 

Tim’s brow furrowed.  “And why is that?”

 

“This isn’t the first of these guys that’s been apprehended.”  Marko supplied.  “This isn’t just Mad Hatter’s hypnotics or mind control.  That’s why they don’t snap out of it when the connection breaks.  There minds are a jumbled mess and verbal interrogation doesn’t work.”

 

“That’s convenient.”  Tim noted mirroring Conner’s body language with crossed arms.

 

Marko’s shoulders slumped.  “You Batman Inc. types really are a distrusting bunch.”

 

“You’ve got _no_ idea.”  Conner chuckled under his breath.

 

“Hey,” Tim protested.

 

Conner uncrossed his arms and splayed his arms out, palms facing upward.  

 

Tim bobbed his head from side to side in a silent concession.

 

Tim didn’t know why but he was willing to give this new guy a chance.  Despite Bruce’s inherent distrust of most meta’s Tim thought a possible telepath in Batman Inc. could be highly valuable.  Besides, Tim had precious few leads to follow up on and the more he got back to Gotham with the less Bruce would scold for bringing Conner on the mission.  He uncrossed one arm and gestured to the unconscious man.  “Knock yourself out.  But _we_ take him back to Gotham.”

 

Marko nodded almost eagerly and Tim deduced that this was likely his first interaction with other vigilantes.  He knelt down near the crown of the unconscious man’s head.  He placed his index finger, thumb, and middle finger on the man’s head and closed his eyes.  

 

Tim could see that Marko’s eyes jittered under his closed eyelids and lines formed in his forehead.  The minutes stretched and neither Tim nor Conner spoke a word.  Finally, Marko gulped in a breath and yanked his hand back as though it was burned.

 

“Well, what’s the verdict?”  Conner asked impatiently.

 

Marko rubbed at his eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath.  “It’s a mess in there.  It’s hard to sort through.”

 

“So nothing?”  Conner groused.

 

Marko shook his head.  “I might be able to get more with more time.  I might be able to help this guy untangle the knot his mindescape has become and piece himself back together.  But I got one tidbit of information.”

 

“What did you learn?”  Tim asked stepping forward.

 

“Dose the name ‘Leviathan’ mean anything to you?”            

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I created my own vigilante for the Batman universe. Fight me. Who the heck hasn't wanted to create there own member of the batfam? No one. That's who. Haha. 
> 
> So enter Leviathan. Note that this will be very different incarnation of the organization as it appears in canon so be prepared. 
> 
> Up next: Interlude chapters that focus on other members of the batfam and add to the plot. Stephanie Brown, here we come!


	6. Interlude:  Steph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steph gets a new tutor and gets herself into a bit of a jam. The shape of Leviathan begins to creep into view. And Selina Kyle's got mad wisdom!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo sorry for the delay! It has been waaaay too long. This chapter was a little harder to get out due to some serious writers block (by that I mean I allowed myself to be distracted, by order of operations: Mass Effect Andromeda, Star Wars Celebration, and 13 Reasons Why--and another fic I wrote about it...oops) but I pushed through and here we are. 
> 
> I seriously hope you all like this chapter and it lives up to your expectations. Your support has been so amazing I do not have the words. I mean the kudos and comments are basically my life's blood at this point. You guys rock and I love each and every single one of you. 
> 
> P.S. playing Mass Effect and writing this has given me inspiration for a mashup fic that I am sure no one has ever asked for but it's probably gonna happen anyway, haha.
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, I don't own this universe or these characters. It's all for fun and practice.
> 
> This work is not beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Stephanie Brown had no idea how she'd gotten into this mess.  

If someone had told her that she'd be spending her Saturday night locked on the wrong side of a bank vault she would have told them that they were tripping big time or that she obviously needed a life.  

Yup, she was in _desperate_ need of a life.   

She paced the length of metal room like a wild animal that had been caged.  All the while she stewed over how she'd gotten into this mess.  She wanted to blame someone: Selina, Babs, Bruce...but the truth was that she’d screwed up.  The truth was that she had wanted to impress the three of them and she had royally fucked that chance up.  She had let her opponent get to her, she had let her jealousy get the better of her.  Her unresolved feelings for Tim were becoming a seriously liability.  Bruce had once told her she was too hot headed and couldn’t be trusted in the field.  She was starting to worry he was right. 

It had all started early that night in the cave:  

_Oracle had called her in with a mission.  Things with Barb had been good.  Working with her, being trained by her, was like a dream come true.  She was the big sister Steph never had.  She was an incredible mentor and she liked to think they worked pretty damn well together._

_But when she had arrived at the cave she was surprised to see Catwoman was there, suited up and ready for patrol.  She was seated on the console of the massive computer, legs crossed and dispassionately examining her retractable claws.  Barbara looked mildly annoyed at the intrusion into her space and her precious computer but seemed resigned to allow it._

_Steph had known instantly that something was up._

_"Evening, Kitten."  Selina greeted, not looking up as she continued to pick at something under one of her dangerous claws._

_"Hi," Steph had said warily, dropping her backpack onto to the floor._

_She and Selina were not exactly close.  In truth they hadn't had a lot interaction over the years Steph had been dressing up and running across the Gotham skyline.  But Selina had been kind to her at a moment in her life when she had needed it most.  She had offered Steph a soft couch, warm tea, and motherly hand through her hair.  It had been a gesture that Steph would always be grateful for.  Since Steph’s return to the world of the living (metaphorically speaking) she and Selina hadn't interacted a whole lot—which was odd.  They ran in the same circles and it was ultimately kind of a small club that they both belonged to._

_"What's up?"  Steph inquired, opening the locker that housed her suit and gear._

_Oracle didn’t looked away from the cool, LED glow of her screens.  “Patrol and training."_

_"_ ** _Training_** _?"  Steph frowned._

_"Welcome to the jungle, Kitten."  Selina stated as she hopped off the console._

_"Babs?"_

_"You've come a long way from your days as Spoiler."  Barbara said, finally turning her wheelchair to face her._

_"Thanks to you."  Steph said, as both a means of giving credit where credit was due, but also as a means of trying to stave off what she could partially sense was happening._

_"In part."  Barbra nodded.  "But there is only so much I can teach you now that your skills have progressed."_

_Steph wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation was going.  She had a panicked moment of thinking that Barb might be ending their partnership, passing her on to someone else._

_Barbara gestured to the wheel chair.  "There are ways of fighting that I can’t teach you."  She closed her eyes and took a slow inhalation, her whole torso moving with it.  "That I can't demonstrate."_

_"Barbara, no—"_

_"It's true."  The red-head said with grit and steel in her tone.  "It's a fact."_

_Selina touched Barbra’s shoulder lightly as she passed and sauntered on over to Steph.  It was brief and light.  It was compassionate in the way Selina’s fingers lingered and slid.  It hadn’t been unlike the gesture Selina had extended to Steph a couple of years ago.  Surprisingly, Barbara's shoulders released some of their tension at the touch.  Despite Selina's often flippant and aloof nature, Steph knew that behavior hid someone who cared deeply for those she was close to.  Selina had been involved with the Batfamily in one way or another for so long it was no surprise she had become part of it wether she liked it or not._

_"Much of your training has been by men."  Catwoman started.  "That's good.  Men can teach you a lot about a fight.  But you could use a more...feminine touch."_

_"Barbara has taught me—"_

_"As much as she's been able to.  But you need to see how a woman can_ **_move_ ** _in a fight.  Our bodies are different.  We need to fight differently.  We have advantages that we can exploit."_

_"Selena is going on patrol with you tonight.  She's going to help take over your combat training."  Barbara informed.  "Kate has also agreed to begin tutoring you.  There is a great deal you can learn from them both."_

_Steph felt her temper rise; a cauldron boiling over in angry, sputtering hisses._ **_More_ ** _training?  When were these people going to trust her?  These were the people who let twelve-year-old boys run around in their underwear, swinging from rooftops to fight baddies like Two Face on a regular basis.  Why was_ **_she_ ** _always forced to train more and harder?  Why did she always have to be the one to prove she belonged?_

_"There have been casualties, Steph.”  Barbara’s voice cut in.  “Some of us have_ **_been_ ** _those casualties."  Her eyes dropped down and her voice was quiet and almost bitter._

_Selina nodded.  “I had my damn heart removed because some rich, second rate cry-baby was able to get me off balance.  Shouldn't have happened.  I was better.  But I was sloppy."  She rolled her shoulders looking every bit the cat she modeled herself after.  "Men are usually bigger and stronger.  We can_ **_never_ ** _afford to forget that."_

_Steph realized what Selina had done.  She'd stepped in with her own story to keep Babs from having to relive her own.  The encounter with the Joker, the loss of her legs, it was the one thing that still really seemed to haunt the former Batgirl._

_"We can all get better."  Babs agreed.  "We can all learn from each other."_

_"You're right."  Steph had conceded, feeling a little foolish at her angst when it was clear that these two women were just trying to make sure she could still be a hero while doing their best to ensure that she was as prepared as she possibly could be._

_Selina attached her whip to her belt.  "Suit up and lets go."_

_Steph nodded and began pulling off her civvies and suiting up in the Batgirl suit.  She loved the suit.  She loved what it stood for.  She loved that it came from Barbara.  She pulled the cowl over her head and flipped her hair out behind it.  She was determined to do the mantle proud._

_She hit a button on a console in the cave that cycled through the numerous vehicles that Batman Inc. had at it’s disposal and hopped onto the Ricochet when it popped up.  Selina had already procured a midnight-black motorcycle and slipped onto it and slipped her goggles into place over her eyes._

_"Uh...that's Bruce's bike."  Steph cautioned, as she kicked on the ignition._

_One corner of Selina's ruby-red lips curled up at a corner.  "I know."  The back wheel spun and squealed as she gunned the engine and peeled out of the cave._

_Steph kicked the Ricochet into gear and sped after her, the wind whipping her blond curls out behind her._

_As they raced into the city limits Steph began to realize just how different Selina was from the rest of the Batfamily.  She was rarely dower and moody.  She loved the thrill of being out in the night, of being something of an antihero.  She had fun.  She didn't just understand the dangers of this lifestyle she embraced them.  It was a bit contagious if Step was being honest.  Perhaps she and Selina were a bit more alike than she had realized._

_At first patrol had been pretty standard.  They stopped a drug deal and then saved a prostitute from being beaten by some greasy looking businessman.  Selina had slinked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.  When he turned to angrily demand what she wanted she slashed her claws across the man’s chest, drawing blood and sending him stumbling back onto his ass.  She had pulled free her whip and cracked in overhead and then at his feet.  The man whimpered out some inaudible plea and scrambled wildly away.  The prostitute, a girl only a little older than Steph, had stood on shaky legs wiping her makeup-smeared face._

_Selina walked over to her and handed her a card telling her about a women's home that worked specifically with working girls.  She also promised the young woman that there would be money waiting for her to help start a new life if she checked in to that shelter._

_The comms hissed just as the girl took the card from Selina with a shaking hand.  Barbara’s voice was in their ears._

_"We've got a bank robbery in progress at the Bank of Gotham.  Some gang Red Robin was dealing with a while back called the Golden Dragons.”_

_"How original,”  Steph had muttered as they climbed back onto their bikes.  “Sounds like a Chinese food chain.”_

_"No police onsite."  Oracle continued.  "The silent alarm went off for a just a sec and then were cut off.  I'm tapped into the security cameras now.  Stereotypical gang name aside, these guys are definitely professionals.“_

_They sped through the Gotham streets and grappled to one of the roof of one of the buildings neighboring the Bank of Gotham.  Selina perched on the ledge hands between her feet like some feline gargoyle as she peered at the bank._

_"So, Kitten, what's that plan?"_

_Steph shot a surprised look over her shoulder.  "I thought you were in charge."_

_"I'm here to train and advise, not babysit."  She stuck out her right leg and stretched.  "Besides, I'd like to see what you've learned under O's tutelage."_

_Steph pulled her top lip between her teeth and chewed before she tapped her cowl twice to cycle through the settings of her holo-lenses.  Infrared showed almost ten perps if she was counting right.  The majority of movement was near the main vault._

_"I say we sneak in, drop some smoke, and take'em out."  She offered simply.  She was definitely an Occam’s Razor kinda girl._

_Selina moved her body into a slow, graceful handstand on the roof ledge.  "Simple, straightforward, and effective."  She turned about to regard the bank upside-down.  "What are these Golden Dragon’s packing?"_

_Steph cycled through her lens settings again and stopped on the Wayne Tech equivalent of x-ray vision.  It utilized the wifi and cellular frequencies around them to create an approximation of the matter penetrating vision.  It wasn’t as good as what the Supers could boast but it was still pretty bad ass.  With it Steph was able to make out the forms of the gang and the metal of their weaponry._

_“Mostly melee weapons,”  She observed out loud.  “Swords, knives, throwing starts.  You know, all the typical_ **_Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_ ** _stuff.”_

_“Hmm,” Selina purred.  “So somewhere around ten goons all with some very ninja-esque weapons.”  She let her legs splay out spread eagle and then cartwheeled up to her feet.  “All part of some gang that our favorite little birdie hasn’t managed to take out yet.  Does sneaking in, smoking the area, and bashing heads in seem like the best approach?”_

_Steph frowned.  Selina was hinting at something.  “Smoke might not be enough to give us the drop on them.”  She ventured._

_Selina gave her a pleased nod.  “Any other potential ideas?  Any other senses we could play with?”_

_“We could have O. hit all the alarms, use the sound to disorient them, let them think the cops are coming.”_

_“That’s perfect.”  Selina purred.  “And since we have all this lovely, infrared eyewear why don’t we use smoke too, just like you suggested.”_

_Steph grinned.  “Even ninja suck at fighting with two senses taken out of commission.”_

_“Exactly.  Don’t fight hard.  Fight dirty.”  With that, Selina leapt off of the ledge and made her way to the roof of the Bank of Gotham._

_They snuck in using the air vents and waited for Barbara to trip the alarm system.  Once the shrill blare of the alarm system went off it sent the Gold Dragons into a moment of panic.  Steph waited the span of a breath for the frenzy to reach a peak and then dropped several smoke pellets into their midst._

_“Eyes on me, Kitten.”  Selina instructed via hand signs as she pounced from one of the marble gargoyles they had been balanced on._

_Steph followed her lead and dropped into the fray._

_It wasn’t really a fare fight.  It was actually kind of sad.  As ninja went, these guys were no League of Assassins.  Still, it would have taken them considerably longer to deal with them had they simply smoked them or just barged in.  She did her best to keep an eye on Selina as she took out the thieves.  Selina was lithe and moved like liquid shadow, only striking out when her opponents had over extended themselves or she had slipped under their guard.  Most of all she grabbed, twisted, and used their weight and momentum against them.  It was inspiring and Steph wasn’t sure she could ever really move like that._

_As the smoke cleared Steph caught sight of someone inside the open bank vault.  A feminine form in a magenta and navy jumpsuit and white, feline mask.  This had to be that shady character Lynx Tim had reported about.  She was the ring leader of this band of creeps and Steph was going to take her down.  She was going to prove that she belonged in Batman Inc. among the best of them._

_She sprinted into the vault at full tilt expecting the burglar to still be disoriented but as Steph leapt toward her knee coming up high and aimed at her head, Lynx slipped to the side, barely moving but avoiding the attack all together.  Steph recovered quickly and immediately lashed out with the back of her fist.  But again Lynx surprised her and caught her arm and spun them both around keeping Steph’s arm fully extended._

_"Aww, I was hoping it'd be the red guy."  Lynx pouted._

_Steph frowned._ **_Jason?  Tim?_ **

_"You know."  Lynx continued.  "The dreamy one with the long hair and the staff."_

_Steph felt her blood boil.  What the hell had Tim been up to with Lynx!?_

_"He's so much more fun.  Thought I might be able to steal another kiss."_

_Steph actually growled at that and moved to break the hold but Lynx had gotten her off balance and she planted a foot to the small of Steph’s back and sent her tumbling forward in an embarrassingly inelegant tumble of arms and legs.  She recovered just in time to see Lynx blowing her a kiss and wiggling her fingers in farewell as the bank vault slid shut with an audible thud and a clink as the locks slipped into place._

Yeah, that’s how Steph got here.  Not her brightest moment.  Shit…

She ran her hands over he cowl and back through her hair and tugged.  She continued her incensed pacing back and forth as she cursed herself.  She had royally fucked this up.  This should have been a simple operation.  She had busted up a million robberies and she had let this one get to her.  She had screwed up when she was being tutored.  Sloppy.  

The vault would block all radio and cell waves so she couldn’t contact Barbara.  She was on her own.

She knew that she could wait for Selina to bust her out but she wasn’t sure how long that would be.  Would Selina go after Lynx or any of the others who would likely try and escape now that Steph had been taken out of play?  Or would she give up her chance on catching them and bust Steph out.

Steph decided she didn’t want to wait and find out.  She wasn’t going to sit and wait to be rescued.  She had to do something.

She tapped her gauntlet rapidly and began scanning the vault door through the lenses of her cowl.  She traced the different lines of power with her eyes and wracked her brain over all the lessons Barb had grilled her on regarding electronic systems.  She tried to remember how locking mechanisms would work.  But she couldn’t get it to make any semblance of meaningful sense.  She had tried, really she had, but those lessons had been _insanely_ boring.  Steph was…action oriented, where Brab and Tim were more…cerebral.  Which was why—

Tim had downloaded some of basic schematics of locks and alarm systems onto her personal computer!

“Yes!”  She cheered out loud.

She could kiss Tim.  And that brought up all sorts of conflicting emotions.  Ever since Tim had returned from his global trek, it had stirred up all kinds of old feelings.  She didn’t know how she felt about Tim.  They hadn’t left things in a particularly good place when she’d been asked to spy on him.  In reality things had been tense between them since she’d returned from her fake death.  But she had missed him.  They fought more than they got along these days but Tim had been there for her during some of darkest times.  He also happened to be annoyingly handsome.

She shook her head forcefully as she tampered down the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions that Tim evoked.  Now was sure and shit not the time.

She tapped a few more rapid commands and began scrolling through what she had stored locally on her personal computer until she found what she needed.  It might be outdated and none specific to her current situation but it was something.  It might be enough to jog her memory.  

“Hell yeah!”  She burst out again when she caught sight of what she was looking for.

She overlaid the schematic with the locking system of the bank vault.  Then she pulled her laser welder out of her belt and kept the electromagnetic spectrum view up.  The welder was powerful but only had a finite amount of power.  For a structure as sturdy and thick as the vault she would have to be precise or she wouldn’t have enough power to do what needed to be done.  

She took a breath and then ratcheted the device up to its highest setting.  The metal hissed and glowed as she sliced through it creating a square in the door.  Just as the welder began to blink and warn her that power was running low, there was a pop as the piece of metal was released and it fell free.  

Steph flipped off the welder and returned it to her belt and wrung her hands together in anxiety.  She gave the schematic one last look before reaching into the network of wires and pulled two free and spliced and switched the connections.  She held her breath.  Nothing happened.  

“Fuck me sideways!”  She cursed, kicking the door.

Then there was a click and the vault locks pulled back and began to slide open.  

She let out an elated cry that probably made her sound like a preteen fangirl at her favorite concert as her anger abruptly shifted into exhilaration.

She rushed out to see Selina catch a punch and then twist the man’s arm while bending forward and bringing her leg up over he head to kick him in the face.  The rest of the Golden Dragons were unconscious around her.

“Well done, Kitten.”  Selina noted as she turned to regard her.

Steph angled her head, unsure if that was sarcasm or genuine praise.

“Not the letting that Catwoman-wannabe get the drop on you.”  Selina answered, reading the confusion clearly.  “That was a brash mistake.  But getting yourself out of a bank vault, that takes skill and you did it quick.”  

“But she got away.”  Steph groused as she surveyed those who had been dispatched.

“Did she, my dear Batgirl?”  Selina wiggled her phone out in front of her.  There was a map of Gotham and a blinking red dot moving through like a rat through a maze.  Selina had tagged her.  “O. Thinks there might be more to this little heist than meets the eye.  So we’re gonna tail this poor man’s Catwoman and see if she leads us anywhere interesting.”

Steph couldn’t help but grin at the prospect of a rematch and the possibility that she didn’t completely botch this mission.

They hopped back on their bikes and followed the blinking signal across Gotham to a big, creepy-looking warehouse.  Once more they grappled to a nearby rooftop to scout out the scene and devise a plan. 

“Well, what do we have here?”  Selina intoned as they took in the warehouse. 

“Penguin…” Steph supplied even though she knew the question was rhetorical.

“And what business does a cat have with a bird?”

“Smart money says she procured something for him.”

Selina hummed.

“There’s a lot of guys down there.”  Steph continued.  “And they are packing more than swords and throwing knives.”

“Different sort of dangerous, Kitten.  That’s why we’re adaptable.”

“Less tech to manipulate.”  Steph countered, her electromagnetic vision showing that the majority of the power in the area was shut off.  

“We go in smarter.”

“Lookouts first.”  Steph said, following Selina’s line of reasoning.

“Exactly.”  

Before Steph could say anything more Selina had swung over to the warehouse roof.  She silently and effortlessly shimmied her way down to the ground via a drain pipe.  She slipped up behind one of the guards who leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, easy as anything.  She curved her hand around him and plucked the cigaret from his lips with the tips of two of her claws.  The guy spun around in  surprise only to collide with the padded elbow of Catwoman.

Steph smirked.  Not only was Selina good at this, she made it fun.  She definitely toyed with the bad guys more that Bruce tended to deem appropriate, but what did you expect from someone who modeled herself after a feline?  

Steph shifted her holo-lenses to x-ray vision and caught sight of another guard coming around the corner of the building.  She leapt from the ledge and glided down, soaring into one of the guards as he came around the corner and enveloped him in her cape to help muffle the sound of his chocked off cries as she slammed him into a massive pile of dirt.  

Selina peeked her head around the corner and nodded her approval and then jerked her head to the side in a motion indicating the two other guards patrolling around back.  Steph nodded her understanding and sprinted to her target, her steps perfectly silent.  She came up on the man, her gloved hand covering his mouth as she wound her arm around his neck and began choking off his airflow.  Her muscles heaved as the man struggled against her hold and then became a heap of dead weight.  She lowered him to the ground in time to catch sight of Selina hanging from her whip, her ankles around the other guards throat as he slowly lost consciousness. 

Now she was just showing off.  

With the lookouts dispatched the two of them moved into the warehouse and up onto the metal walkways to spy on the scene below.  Lynx was arguing with Penguin as the little man gestured at her emphatically with his umbrella.

“Any helpful gadgets in that belt of yours?”  Selina whispered close to her ear.

Steph ran though a mental catalogue of what she carried on her.  Her fingers darted into her belt and pulled out four little disks.  

“Weapon jammer…things.”  Steph mouthed.  She didn’t trust her voice in such close and echo inducing confines.  Cass said it carried.

Selina nodded in approval and her lips curved upward.  

Steph scanned those assembled and picked out her targets carefully.  There was over a dozen henchmen and all of them were packing.  She had to choose her targets wisely.  She couldn’t waste these.  She watched how they moved, watched their postures.  She decided against a few of the men who looked new and she deemed the most likely to fire wildly.  While the first to shoot they’d be the most inaccurate.  She picked out the ones she could tell were veteran soldiers of some kind.  A woman with a tattered scarf around her neck and hard eyes.  A tall, wiry man with a bald spot at the top of his head.  Two other men who had the looks of grizzled marines which suggested they were former military.  She exhaled and flung the first of the disks through the air and gave a mental cheer when hit its mark unnoticed.  She was similarly successful with the other three disks and felt pretty damn self-satisfied as not a one had aroused any suspicion.

Then she reached into her belt and pulled out her smoke pellets and prepared to throw.  Selina retrieved two bolas from her own belt and began twirling them casually.  She nodded and they released their projectiles at once.  As Steph predicted, the rookies had fired off blindly in panic and the more disciplined targets Steph had identified kept their heads.  They waited a few moments before the two of them dropped into the startled crowd.

“You stupid bitch!” Cobblepot roared.  “You led them right to us!”  

Steph went right for Lynx who was already trying to make her escape.  

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Steph inquired, cutting off her exit.  

The burglar recognized her and immediately moved into a fighting stance.

“No, seriously?”  Steph continued.  “Like, is it some Jet Li movie set or something?  Cause with _that_ getup…”  She gestured at the other young woman’s costume.

Lynx hissed and pulled her sword free and charged her.  Steph kept her head on this time, feigning being overwhelmed and staying on the defensive, waiting to catch an opening.  She took what would look like a stumbling step back, letting Lynx think she was on the ropes.  The thief pressed her perceived advantage, and Steph got her opening, catching her sword between the spikes of one of her gauntlets.  She whipped out one of her collapsable batons and cracked it across Lynx’s face dropping her in an unconscious heap.

Steph ducked in time to dodge a bat that had been aiming for her head.  She spun on her toes and slammed her baton into the side of her attackers knee, dislocating it and tumbling him over. 

When she was upright again she caught sight of Selina leaping into a handstand on a huge man’s shoulders.  She turned about and dug her clawed fingers into his skin and he cried out.  Then she swung herself down, feet slamming into his stomach and barreling him over.  She rolled backwards close to another man and sprung up into another handstand her heels jamming the guys chin upward with an audible crunch.  

If she hadn’t been already, Steph was now official inspired.  The way Selina moved, the style and flow of it.  Steph understood.  She was drinking the Kool-aide.  She wanted in.  There were some things Catwoman could teach her.

Steph charged back into the fray feeling inspired.  She tried to copy one of Selina’s moves, jumping up onto another guys shoulders but couldn’t quite manage to maintain the handstand since the guy began to shake and wobble.  Instead she flipped over and landed gracefully in front of him and gave him a punch to his sternum instead.  Okay, she might need a few lessons first.     

Through the fray Selina caught Steph’s eye and jerked her head toward another guy and then made her way toward him at a run.  She leapt onto his back, her knees digging into his sides and hands on his shoulders.  She rocked her body out to the right and then swung it back to the other side flipping the goon over and landing on top of him knocking him out with a palm strike.  

Steph got it.  Lesson time.  She followed Selina’s lead and attempted the move.  She remembered what Selina had said early that evening about using her weight and her body to her advantage.  Steph used her whole body flinging the man over and then promptly punched him out.  Success!  It wasn’t some earth shattering move, Steph already knew some advanced shit.  But it was something different.  It was a taste of how Selina moved.

The fight went on like that for a bit longer with Selina modeling a move and Steph following her example.  Then it was just Penguin backed into a corner with his umbrella brandished in front of him, a knife extending from its tip.  

“Stay back you bitches!”  He growled.

“Oh, Oz, is that any way to treat a couple of ladies?”  Selina purred.  There was a sharp crack of her whip as it lashed out lightning-quick.  It snared the umbrella and she tugged it out of the little man’s grip.  

Steph was on him instantly, batons extended, one slapping his gut and the other coming up under his chin and keeping him from falling or bending forward.  She leaned in toward him casually, as though she were having a very pleasant chat.  

“What you got going on here, Penguin?”  Steph asked easily.

“None of you’re damn business!”

“Aww, you’d think you’d know how this goes by now…”  Steph mused.  “I mean, how many times have you been on the receiving end of our butt kickings?”

Cobblepott squawked in protest as Steph applied a little more pressure with her baton against his airway.  Selina sauntered over and began picking through his pockets.  When she pulled his phone out he began to squirm and struggle further, hurtling yet another chocked barrage of curses at them.

“I think we’ve got a winner.”  Selina noted with amused approval.

“Why you filthy—”

Steph released her hold on his neck allowing the man to draw in a full, weezing breath only to spin on her heel and deliver a roundhouse kick to his gut, knocking him out cold.  

"What were you up to, Oz..." Selina hummed as she tugged open a pouch on the strap of the sling pack that hugged tight across her back.  She pulled out a smart phone that she immediately connected to Pengunin’s phone with a cord.  "Oracle, dear, incoming."  She looked up at Steph and winked.  "Officially being part of Daddy Bat's crew really does comes with some perks." 

"This is well encrypted."  Barbara's voice came in through both their headsets.   

"Is that a problem?"  Selina inquired. 

"Please."  Barbara scoffed.  "Transmitting some of the data to you both now." 

Selina peered down at her phone and Steph pulled hers out to look as well. 

"Looks like Oz is helping someone acquire specialized real-estate."  Selina noted.

Steph scrolled down the data package Barbara sent.  "And medical equipment." 

"Lots of it."  Barbara added. 

"This was some kind of transaction."  Selina continued.  “It looks like Lynx and her gang of kung-fu stereotypes were recruited to acquire the funds for our rotund, avian friend." 

“That’s the gist.  There's still a lot here—huh…” Barbara trailed off.

“What is it?”  Steph inquired.

“It’s…a word…something Red Robin and Superboy found with the new guy they recruited.  Leviathan…”

“How biblical.”  Selina noted dryly.

“Hmm…I’ll run the rest of this through the computer and see what it comes up with.  Good work, you two."

Selina stretched, lifting her arms over he head and arching her back.  “You hungry?  I’m famished.  I know a food truck with the most sinfully, delicious fish tacos.” 

A few minutes later they sat on the roof of some club that was blasting EDM with a bag full of tacos between them on the ledge.  It never got old seeing peoples reactions when Gotham’s masked vigilantes showed up in full costume to order food like an average citizen.  Phone’s were out instantly and pictures were being snapped.  Selina had blown kisses at cameras and Steph had flashed a peace sign here and there while they waited for their food.  

Steph sat with her feet dangling off of the side of the building while Selina was reclined on her side along the ledge, goggles up against her forehead as she enjoyed her meal.  

Steph took a breath and steeled herself to ask the question she’d been waiting to ask Selina much of the night.  She honestly wasn’t sure who else to ask.  If anyone knew how to navigate a nontraditional relationship it was Selina Kyle.

“How did you know Batman was…you know…”

Selina chewed around a bite of her taco for a moment as she considered the question.  After a moment she inclined her head as she sussed out Steph’s meaning.

“The _one_.”  Selina smirked.  “I don’t know, Kitten.  I think it’s because no matter what we always come back together in the end.  We’ve both had other lovers, we’ve made each other crazy, we’ve died, and yet we always find our way back to one another.”  She paused as she took another bite of her taco, licking her lips when she placed it back down.  “It’s not even completely in the romantic sense.  You might not see it but Bruce and I are really great friends.  I can make him laugh and be silly in a way no one else—man _or_ woman—can.”

Steph was not sure she could even begin to imagine what Bruce being silly looked like.  Somehow it still came out a bit terrifying in her minds eye.  She chewed her own food in order to keep from blabbing, to keep from asking the question she really wanted to ask.  But somehow Selina knew it without Steph having given it words and form.

“You’re young.”  Selina soothed.

“What if I’ve already fond the person I’m supposed to be with?  How the hell am I supposed to know”

Selina sighed.  “You just…know…”  She shrugged.  “It’s a terribly unhelpful and undescriptive answer, but it’s the truth.  You and the little, red bird may have had something good but it won’t be the last for you.”

Stephanie blushed, hating that it was all so clearly evident to the cat-burglar.  “I love him.”

“Of course you do.  And part of you always will.  We carry a piece of those we’ve loved no matter what happens between us.  I’ve loved other men besides Bruce Wayne, Kitten.”  Selina supplied.  “And a couple of other women.”  She winked.

Steph looked at her in what was probably shock.  

Selina laughed.  “Oh, c’mon, you already _knew_ that.  Bruce and I have quit a history, both together and separate.  My point is that we can love many times in our life.  Sometimes it’s short and sweet.  Sometimes it’s something that lasts a lifetime or several—as it were.  All you can do is enjoy it while you’ve got it.  Don’t over think it.  Love isn’t rational.  And if you find someone that you can _truly_ be you with, without reservation...then dig your claws in and never let them go.”  

“But how am I supposed to _know_?”  Steph knew she was starting to sound whiny.

Selina seemed unfazed by it.  “You’ll just will.  Trust your instincts.  You’ve got great instincts.”

Steph blushed slightly at the praise and then tucked back into her tacos.  Selina’s answer hadn’t been what she wanted but it also wasn’t unexpected.  Maybe Tim was her forever guy…or maybe he wasn’t.  She wasn’t sure but maybe it was time to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Love Will Tear Us Apart. Yeah, it's ominous and as bad as it sounds. 
> 
> I will make a concerted effort to post much, much more promptly going forward. I've got the entire fic mapped out from here on out so it should hopefully go smoother...plus it seems like I'll have less awesomeness to distract me. I shall not leave this fic unfinished...unless zombies happen...because...you know, zombies...


	7. Love Will Tear Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim helps Damian save some orphans and a friend. The threads of Leviathan's plot continue to take shape. Tim faces his greatest fear and it brutally tests his and Conner's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OVER 200 KUDOS!!! Whoop, whoop! Thank you all so much! I feel the love!
> 
> A special thanks for all of you who are commenting and giving feedback. I dearly love reading everything you all have to say.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry for this chapter...

Tim thrust his bō staff forward, parallel to the floor, the shaft of it colliding with the throats of the two men rushing him and startling them back.  The staff bounced back to his waiting hands.  He caught it and planted the butt of it into the floor and used it to vault into the air, both legs kicking out and connecting with chests of the still stunned men.  They both toppled backward and into the seemingly endless stream of attackers that were flooding the hallway.  

Damian leap frogged over Tim’s head and brandished his sword; the blade making a soft, metallic hiss as it was freed from it’s sheath.  He swung the sword overhead as he came down to land.  There was a sharp twang as the weapon sliced the barrel of a rifle in two.  Without missing a beat Damian hurled a knife into the hand of another man pinning the limb to the wall and causing the man to fling his head back and howl in pain.

“You’re playing too nice, Red Blunder!”  The newest Robin admonished.

Tim rolled his eyes on reflex even though Damian couldn’t see his eyes because of the whiteout lenses of his domino.  The little shit would never change.  Never mind that _he_ was the reason Tim was now very late for a date with Conner.  But a code epsilon from Damian usually meant some kind of immediate nuclear apocalypse.  

If anyone took after Bruce in the “I’ll take care of it myself, I don’t need anyone” department, it was Damian.  Apples, as the old adage claimed, did not fall far from the tree; especially when said apple was the product of Wayne and al Ghul genetics and trained from birth to be an deadly assassin.

When Tim had entered the orphanage he hadn’t known what to expect; he only knew it had to be bad.  Damian’s SOS had not contained any information other than the need for backup.  What he had found was something well beyond any horror he could have imagined.  The children here were being experimented on with some version of the meta drug, Zing.  It had the totally fucked up privilege of being one of the most barbaric things Tim had encountered, and that was saying something.  To top it off none other than Hugo Strange was overseeing the operation along with some seriously well trained and Zing-infused security.

There was a sudden rush of heat as a gout of flames lanced toward them.  Tim rolled forward coming up in front of Damian and deploying the bullet shield from his staff, blocking the blast of raging fire.  

“Tt,” Damian scoffed.  “I had it under control.”  

Tim fought of an exasperated groan and rolled a couple of smoke pellets down the hall.  “Sure you did, demon whelp.”

Tim switched on his infrared vision to gaze through the smoke and saw even more soldiers rushing to provide reinforcements and turned to run down the corridor.  He began hurriedly herding the group of orphan’s Damian had liberated further along down the passageway.  

“We gotta go!”  He yelled back over his shoulder to Damian.  “There’s too many.”

Damian huffed but sprinted after him.  “Fine, but only because I need to make sure that my friend and the children escape this mad man’s facility.”

“Wait, _friend_?”  Tim asked in very legitimate shock.  “Is Titus here?  Batcow?”

“You are not humorous, Red Reject.”  Damian shot back, sheathing his sword.

The children were all looking at them with wide, terrified eyes.  One child, a red-haired boy about Damian’s age with a tattered t-shirt and no shoes, was trying assist them in calming the others and encourage them down the hall.

“Get a move on, Colin!”  Damian ordered but his tone was less biting and condescending than it typically was.  Tim made a mental note to think more on those specific changes in Damian as well as his sudden declaration of having a friend later.

“There is a way out through an access panel.  It leads down into the sewer.”  Damian informed.  “It’s how I was able to get inside.  We can get the children out through there.”

Tim heroically resisted the urge to point out that most of these “children” were either Damian’s age or older.  Instead he assisted Damian with ushering the children in the direction of this sewage access point.  

“Red Robin, Robin,” Oracle’s voice came in through their comms.  “Back up is almost there.  Psi is closest but Batgirl and Catwoman aren’t far behind him; Batman is on JLA business; and Nightwing and Red Hood are both currently engaged in other incidents.”

“Copy that, O.” Tim replied.  

The ground began to tremble under their feet causing most of the children to stumble and fall.  Dust began to sprinkle down around their heads and both he and Damian glanced around the building both clearly worried that the whole place could come crashing down on them.

Tim whirled back to face the oncoming attackers.  “There’s a seismic manipulator, with them.”  He said to Damian.

“Your command of the obvious is astounding.”  Damian retorted dryly.

“God, I hate you.”  Tim sighed.

Tim hurled two explosive shuriken into the ceiling above their pursuers.  They blinked for an instant before detonating and sending the roof down atop of them in a shower of dust, dry wall, and cement.  

“Go.  Help make sure they get out.”  He told Damian.  “I’ll hold them here until Psi and the others get here.”

Damian looked like he wanted to argue but then turned back as the boy he called Colin roared out in a voice that sounded unnervingly deep and far too loud for a child his size.  

“Fine.”  Damian groused.  “But I don’t take orders from _you_.”

“Duly noted, just go!”  Tim replied in exasperation.

“Tt…”  Damian whirled and sprinted back to the children, cape fluttering out behind him in familiar shades of yellow and black.

Tim watched him for a breath before turning back around to refocus his attention on the soldiers coming at him.  He was choosing to label them as “soldiers” since they moved with a unity and precision that spoke of extensive military training.  The minor cave-in he had caused had knocked one or two unconscious and was causing the rest to come at him in groups of one or two which gave him a temporary advantage.

Tim had a brief moment to contemplate calling in Conner.  He knew his best friend was likely listening in at this point and likely vibrating with the repressed urge to come rushing in to assist him.  It was very likely only his respect for Tim’s abilities and his legitimate—and highly rational—fear of Bruce that kept him from flying in in all his bold, Superboy-glory.

Tim didn’t have time to fully weigh the option as a female soldier had morphed into an actual geyser of water and came at him in a violent torrent.  Tim leapt up and barrel rolled over her and lobbed a cryo-grenade at her, freezing her in place just as she landed.  He barely landed before a man, who had grown a vicious set of claws on his fingers and sporting a serious amount of body hair, was snarling and clawing at him with a feral ferocity.

Tim bobbed and weaved, ducking under the claws that raked at his face.  He sprang up and struck the man in the chin with his elbow.  He spared a quick glance back and saw that Damian was making good progress filing the children into a room that Tim assumed led to the sewer access he had mentioned.  That, at least, seemed to be going well. 

Tim spun back to return his attention back on his attackers.  He threw himself fully into the flow of battle, taking in the super powers his opponents used and adapting accordingly as best he could with what tech he had at his disposal.  The narrowness of the hallway helped to keep him from being surrounded and he managed to keep them at bay but was quickly running out of gadgets and was now relying primarily on his wit and skill.  That could only take him so far.  Tim was brilliant and exquisitely trained and conditioned but the human body had its limits no matter who you were.  

“Let’s go, Usurper!”  Damian called, poking his head out from inside the room before darting back inside.

_Finally!_  

Tim heaved in an exhausted breath and turned and ran after him, tossing both a flash pellet and smoke pellet to cover his retreat.  He was just inside the room when the intercom system buzzed overhead.  A voice the entire bat-family knew to fear came over the speakers.

“Not so fast, little birdie.”  Jonathan Crane cooed.

Tim’s hand dashed to his belt for the gas mask he kept there but it was already too late.  The Scarecrow had spoken _after_ he had released whatever fear-gas he was manufacturing these days into the air.  The air was a dingy-yellow, the color of the infected flesh under diseased toenail.  Tim coughed as he breathed in a lung full and instantly felt his body jerk without his consent.  Scarecrow’s toxin was working even faster than before it seemed.  There was a spike of something sharp and quivering that shot right up from Tim’s gut and all the way up along his scalp.  His heart immediately began to thunder inside of his chest.  His breathing hammered within his chest as it pumped up and down like a heavy bellow.  His eyes began to flit all around as he tried to force his breathing into long controlled breaths.  He squeezed his eyes shut and then reopened them in an attempt to focus his vision on the trap door in the floor Damian and the children had used to escape.  It was a vein endeavor, as his attention kept skittering away to creeping shadows and insistent whispers.  He doggedly tugged his attention back over and over again but it only seemed to intense his rapidly growing panic.

_Breath damnit!_ Tim cursed at himself.  _You can deal with this.  You’ve been dosed before.  Just breath._  

But then something different happened.  His vision began to fog, then blink in and out.  The whispers that swirled around him began to congeal into something familiar, a voice he knew better than any other…it was Conner, and he was screaming.  Then he could hear Steph crying and Cass whispering comforting nothings in a quivering voice.  He heard Dick’s quiet sobs join them and Bruce’s violent curses.  

_Hallucinations…_ Tim told himself.  _Auditory and visual…_ he tried to muster every meditation technique he new to combat what was happening but he could feel his grip slipping.  _Shit…_

And then it was like he was falling and everything began to go dark. 

_###_

_Tim blinked up at the setting sun as it cast the world in deep, amber haze.  He watched as figures, black against the orange light, began to take sharper form.  He recognized them.  He knew them all.  Bruce, Steph, Alfred, Cass, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Kate and—Conner.  They were all clad in black, the sorrow clear in all their features.  They stood in front of a coffin as it was lowered into the ground and dirt began to piled atop of it._

_There was already a tombstone set into the green lawn that read:  Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Beloved Son, Brother, Hero, and Friend._

_That didn’t make any sense.  Had he died?  How was he here watching it?  What was happening?  Fear roared through him in violent waves.  He tried to think but then he saw Conner’s face, eyes red-rimmed and puffy.  His expression was so stricken it was like a million hot needles had been jammed into his chest.  Without thinking he ran to Conner, arms going out to hold him only to ghost right through him._

_“No.  No nonononono!”  Tim began to mutter in anguish and terror.  “Don’t make me watch this!”_

_But he couldn’t leave.  He couldn’t do anything but watch as the people he loved most mourned him.  It was the worst kind of torture.  Finally, they began to leave, one-by-one, until it was only Conner and Bruce in the shadowed dusk.  Finally, Bruce turned to Conner and placed a hand on his shoulder.  Conner jerked his shoulder away violently and his eyes had tears in them._

_“Bring him back.”  He ordered through clenched teeth._

_“Conner…” Bruce started helplessly._

_“Call Doctor Fate, Zatana, or Ra’s al_ **_fucking_ ** _Ghul for all I care!”  And then his shoulders slumped forward and he brought a hand to his face and spoke in a small, desperate voice.  “Just bring him back…please…”_

_Bruce seemed to shrink in response, caving in on his own grief and helplessness._

_“I’m so sorry, Conner.”  And he gripped Conner’s shoulder again._

_This time the half-kryptonian didn’t fight him.  Then Bruce released his hold and left him there._

_Tim watched helplessly as Conner’s legs gave out beneath him.  He watched the tears continued to roll down his face as he faced a tombstone._

_“Tim…” He whispered.  “Is this what you felt when I died?”  His voice broke with his sobs.  “How did you do it, Tim?  How did you go on?  How the fuck did you do it?”_

_The earth around Conner irrupted: leafs, blades of grass, and dirt swirling out around him in an explosive display of TTK unshackled by swell of emotion._

_“I can’t do it.”  Conner continued.  “I’m not as strong as you.  I really don’t think I can do it.”_

_Tim wanted to reach out to him.  He wanted to hold him. He wanted to comfort him.  And he tried.  He tried over and over again. But it was futile.  Because…he was dead?  Dreaming?_

_“Oh, Conner…” A deep, mahogany voice intoned.  “It pains me to see you like this.”_

_Tim’s hackles rose in alarm as Lex Luther came into view, stepping out of the shadows of the trees.  He was dressed, as always, in a impeccably pressed and tailored suit._

_Conner whirled around, barring his teeth like wild animal.  “Get the fuck_ **_out_ ** _of here, Luther!”_

_Lex seemed supremely nonplused by Conner’s rage and smiled.  “But then you won’t get to hear my offer.”_

_“I don’t want_ **_shit_ ** _from you!”_

_Lex tsked.  “Now, now, I wouldn’t be so quick to say that, my boy.”_

_Conner tensed.  “I am_ **_not_ ** _your boy.”_

_Lex continued on as if not hearing Conner’s declaration.  “After all, I am offering you the chance to get someone back.”_

_“You’re lying.”  Conner accused but his tone had taken a hopeful, frantic edge._

_“Often, but not this time.”  Luther seemed amused by his own self-deprecation.  “I can give you back your precious Timmothy.”_

_“How?”  Conner demanded._

_“I have the resources and—more importantly—the lack of moral scruples to do what Bruce Wayne will not.”_

_“What do you want from me.”_

**_You soul,_ ** _Tim somehow heard, though Luther did not say it.  Instead he said:_

_“I only want a relationship with my son.”_

_“No!”  Tim cried out, horror pumping savagely through his body.  He wanted to scream until his throat was raw and bleeding.  He wanted fade away.  But he could only watch._

_Conner didn’t hesitate.  “Fine.  Just bring him back.  I’ll do anything.  Just give him back to me.”  Conner’s head bowed and he didn’t see the corners of Lex Luthor’s mouth curve upward in predatory satisfaction._

_And Tim finally screamed out for Conner, wanting to warn him, wanting to chase the heartache from him.  He knew that Luther had control over him now.  He knew that this would lead to nothing good._

_And then it was like everything got dumped upside down but Tim remained standing, feet glued to the ground.  Tim was standing at the golden statue of Conner; it gleamed in the sunlight; anguish was fresh and alive within his chest.  He looked around at the faces of the grieving Titans.  It felt achingly familiar and cold panic washed over him.  Conner was dead.  This was his memorial._

_“No!”  Tim cried out incensed.  “Not again!”_

_The Titans all stared at him in startled dismay._

_Tim gripped the sides of his head and crouched down, curling in on himself.  All the while he was screaming._

**_Breath, Tim!_ ** _A voice sliced through the cruel world like a knife of burning silver._ **_This isn’t real.  Breath.  Listen to my voice.  Follow me out._ **

_Somewhere far away there was a crash and Tim heard Conner screaming his name._

_###_

Tim heaved in a gasping breath as his mind instantly cleared in a lacerating shock.  It was like coming up from under water after being under longer than you had the oxygen in your lungs for.  Psi was crouched over him, green eyes intent above the gaiter that covered his mouth and nose.  

**_There you are._**   Their probationary vigilante said.  But it wasn’t coming from his mouth.  Tim heard his voice resound eerily within the confines of his skull.  

Tim blinked rapidly.  And his eyes locked on Conner’s and he realized his boyfriend was cradling him.

“Scared the shit out of me, Rob.”  Conner breathed, his features melting from worry to relief.

Looking at him was pure, burning agony.  Tim surged up in relief trying to hold Conner, but the world tilted around him and he dropped back down.

“Take it slow.”  Marko instructed, with his actual voice this time.  “That was very serious dose of fear toxin.”

Conner’s hand went to his face and he leaned in close.  “Hey, look at me.”  Without thinking Tim complied.  But when his eyes met the impossible cobalt-blue of Conner’s ,tears immediately began to spill out of his eyes.  His throat felt like it was going to close.  Images of Conner heartbroken and devastated filled his minds eye.  It mixed violently with is own grief from his memories of Conner’s death.  He jerked himself out of Conner’s arms pure animal instinct and stumbled away.

They were still in the orphanage, rubble all around them along with unconscious meta-soldiers.  Everything was spinning and he leaned against a wall to steady himself while his body seemed determined to shake itself apart.  Hands were on his shoulders, warm and strong.

“Rob,” Conner whispered near his ear.  “Look at me, please.”

Tim wanted to.  He was dying to.  But he knew if he did he would just burst into heaving, ugly sobs.  Everything about Conner was too raw; everything about him hurt too much.  

He turned around but carefully kept his gaze from Conner.  “Status report.”  He demanded in a voice that shook but still managed to sound stern.

“Robin managed to get the children out safely and none were exposed to the fear toxin.”  Psi informed immediately, but Tim didn’t like how knowing his eyes were.  He had seen the nightmare Tim had been forced to live through.  “I subdued the remaining soldiers in the area and Superboy was able to funnel the fear gas out through the roof.  Catwoman and Batgirl are currently in pursuit of Crane and Strange.”

It was clipped and efficient.  Bruce would have been pleased if he were here.

“Strange and Crane escaped.”  Oracle cut in.  “Catwoman and Batgirl are currently fending off a large contingent of super-powered combatants with the help of Batwoman and Blackbat who just arrived on scene.”

“Let’s go help them out.”  Tim ordered.

“Maybe you should take a sec—”  Conner started.

“Let’s go.”  Tim cut him off and grappled through the hole in the ceiling that had likely been created by Conner’s hurried entrance.

Their arrival to the fight was timely and much needed.  A group of well trained, mind-controlled, super-powered soldiers was proving to be a challenge even for the combined efforts of four of the most frighteningly skilled women Tim knew.  And Tim needed the fight.  He needed to work out all the stress hormones that were lingering in his veins.  

Having Conner and Psi on hand proved that having friends who were metas did, in fact, come in handy.  The fight was over much sooner with their help.  The bit of combat also did, in fact, succeed in helping Tim clear his head and work out some of the emotions that were running through him.  Despite all that, he still could not bring himself to look at Conner for more than an instant and completely avoided meeting his eyes.

“Good work, team.”  Kate stated as she zip-tied the last of the soldiers.

“But the bad guys got away.”  Steph complained.

“But we got the civilians out and we apprehended a ton of lackeys.”  Kate responded.  “With any luck we might be able find a few more clues to help us figure out how this might all be connected.”

“It’s definitely connected.”  Tim said.  “These guys were just like the soldiers Jervis had with him.”

“Which means this has to do with Leviathan as well.”  Selina mused.

“It would seem so.”  Kate nodded, fist under her chin.

“I’ll work on obtaining identification on all perps you apprehended tonight.”  Oracle cut in through all of their headsets.  “I’ll see if there are any connections with the one Red Robin and Superboy nabbed a week ago.  I’ll also get Psi access to GCPD so he can begin interrogation and rehabilitation with these ones as well.”

“Not that he’s had any success thus far.”  Damian noted as swung down to join them.  

Marko’s eyes narrowed but he held his tongue.  

“Gordon’s men and EMS have taken the children into their custody.”  Damian supplied.

“The rest of you complete and file your reports with as much detail as possible.”  Oracle continued, ignoring Damian.  “That includes you, Superboy.”

Conner let out a loud, miserable groan.

“That report had better include why exactly you were here for this.”  Oracle added in a sympathetic tone.  “You know damn well B. Is going to want to know.”

And shit.  Tim realized now that this was making things with he and Conner suspicious.  Conner had never been so involved in Gotham business before and this was now the third time in less than two months he’d helped him out.  Bruce was either going work it out or start asking some very pointed questions.  That was sending a whole different wave of emotions zooming through Tim.  This was further proof of what Conner did to him; he couldn’t think objectively when it came to him.

A gentle hand was on Tim’s shoulder, soft and feather-light.  “Red Robin?”  Cass’ tone and eyes communicated the full extent of her question and concern without words.

“I’m fine.”  Tim replied.

“You don’t look ‘fine’.”  Steph retorted, her eyes now locked on him as well.

“It’s nothing.  I got dosed with some of Scarecrow’s fear-gas.  Psi fixed me up.”

“Mostly,” Marko joined in.  “I helped get your mind back into focus but those are some serious neuro-chemicals.  Maybe I should—”

“I said I’m _fine_!”  Tim snapped.  “I just need a minute to myself and some air, alright.”  He fired his grapple gun.  “I’ll have my report ready in a few hours, O.”  And then he zoomed into the rooftops before anyone else could begin to natter at him. 

As he swung through the night he felt like he was running, like something was chasing.  But it was a futile effort.  He couldn’t run away from something that was inside of him, something that had taken hold of him and gripped with spectral claws, poisoning him.  His arms began to tremble again and he feared he was going to lose his grip so he dropped himself onto a roof.  He shook out the offending limbs in aggravation but the shakes laid claim to the rest of his body anyway.  And, shit, he felt so _fragile._

“Hey,” came Conner’s voice.

Tim felt his body go rigid instantly, like an iron rod had been jammed up his spine.

“Listen, I’m sorry I rushed in like that.”  Conner continued.  “I was listening in…and then your heartbeat went _crazy_ , and then you were screaming like I’ve never heard you scream before and I just…” Tim heard his arms flop to his sides.  “I just reacted…”

“It’s okay…” Tim whispered.

“It’s not okay.  _You’re_ not okay.”

“Conner—”

“Would you _look_ at me.”  Conner pleaded.

Tim took a shaky breath and forced himself to turn around.  Just as he feared he immediately began to cry when he saw Conner; everything from the living-nightmare came back to him in a sickening rush.  His boyfriend was there in an instant, arms going around him steady and firm.  Tim gripped him back with a force and intensity that would have very likely hurt someone who wasn’t surrounded by a field telekineses.  

“What happened, Tim?”  Conner asked, pressing a kiss into his hair and squeezing.

Tim pressed his face in the space right above Conner’s collarbone.  He just breathed him in for a moment and focused on the warmth that diffused from his skin; it simultaneously comforted and terrified Tim.  He was silent for a long while before he answered.

“I was dead.”  His voice was muffled by the fabric of Conner’s t-shirt.

“Shit…”

“But I saw you.  I saw what it did to you.  And then I relived _your_ death again and—Jesus, Conner, do you have any idea how much I love you?”  Tim said, hard and demanding.

That took Conner aback and he stammered for a moment.  “I—if it’s even close to how much I love you then it’s a scary amount.”  He finally answered.  He ran a hand along the back of Tim’s head.  “But I’m here.  We’re safe.”

Tim shoved away from him.  “You don’t get it.  That’s the fucking problem!”

“What are you talking about?”  Conner’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“When you died I went crazy.  I almost became something terrible—shit I _did_ become something terrible…and now…” he gestured with a hand between them.  “Now that we’ve taken things this far…I don’t know what that will do to us when it happens again.”

“Tim, that’s not gonna—”

“Of course it is!”  Tim snapped.  “Look at the lives we live.  Are you going to stop?”

“What, no.”

“Neither am I.  So it’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s to fear-toxin, just—”

“It’s not the toxin—I mean, yes it is…but…it just showed me where our love is going to take us.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Tim?”

“I’m saying…I don’t know…”

“Son of a bitch, how is this supposed to work if you keep running?”  Conner demanded. 

“I'm not running!” Tim returned defensively. 

“The hell you aren't!” Conner shot.  “This is so fucking unfair.” He spun around, finger gripping his hair tight.  “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

“You didn’t have to live through it.”  Tim retorted.  “I had to live without you.  You got to take a nap, wake up, kick some ass, and then just come home.”

Conner’s features contorted into something bordering on furious.  “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Tim agreed, his tone bitter as ash.  “It isn’t.”

“You can’t have it both ways.”  Conner’s scowl broke and his shoulders slumped.  “You can’t just turn this off.  You can’t just expect us to go back to who we were before.  I—” he swallowed hard.  “I can’t do that.”

“Conner…”

“No!”  Conner shot.  “You don’t get to jerk me around because you’re scared.  For fucks sake, Tim, you started this but you’re the one who keeps freaking out.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“Oh, fuck you!”  Conner snapped.  “You know what?  Just…I’m gonna go.  You call me when you figure out what the hell you want.”  With that Conner lifted up into the air.  He turned and looked at Tim and Tim felt like he had been shot through the chest when he realized that there was the shimmer of tears in Conner’s eyes.  “I—” then he shook his head and flew away at top speed.

Tim watched him go and the shaking returned, with a tooth chattering force.  But other than the shaking Tim didn’t move, he just stared after Conner, even long after he’d disappeared from view.  Tim knew in that moment that he had very likely just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That chapter literally hurt to write but I couldn't make things easy for our boys and given Tim's background and development it just felt right. I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this. 
> 
> UP NEXT: Interlude: Jason


	8. Interlude:  Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason helps the Batfamily investigate Leviathan. He gets some company and help from everyone's favorite acrobat. Things...escalate quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own this universe or the characters in it. This is purely for fun. This whole work is unbeta'd and all mistakes belong to me.
> 
> Please also note that, while this is a canon-informed fic, we are well and truly off the reservation by this point.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Jason didn’t really have the words to describe Gotham.  He could say that it was bustling but that would do nothing to describe the life that thrummed through veins of the city; he could say that it was dark but that would do nothing to illustrate the rotting, pulsating, criminal ulcer germinating in its core; he could call it dangerous but that would not adequately communicate the horrors that were committed on a nightly basis; he could say it was his home but that would fall woefully short of the way Gotham lived under his skin, like a parasite that had burrowed deep into the marrow of his bones or the magnetic pull it had on him.  Yeah, Jason never had the words for Gotham.

His relationship with Gotham and its resident protectors was more than complicated; another thing that Jason did not have the words for.  No matter how many times he left he kept coming back and this time he couldn’t seem to leave.  Worse he found himself working with the other members of the Batfamily.  He was lingering; he could almost feel the roots beginning to grow beneath his feet but he couldn’t seem to make them stop.  Every instinct screamed to leave, go to ground and cut ties.  He ignored that voice and that voice was starting to get quieter.

And so here he was, one leg up on a ledge as he surveyed the city below him, helping Bruce and the family solve the mystery that Tim and his super-boy-toy had stumbled upon.  Jason was seriously beginning to not recognize himself.

He tilted his head up when he caught the muffled sigh of a grapple gun reeling its line in.  He knew who it was without turning around.  This was becoming something of a pattern over the past few weeks.  Another thing he was growing too comfortable with and should be putting a stop to.

"I don't need a handler."  Jason grumbled with as much irritation as he could muster. 

"I'm not your handler."  Dick replied, landing on the ledge next to Jason on the balls of his feet, light and easy like always.  

Jason swore the guy had hallow bones or something.  Only Selina Kyle could land with a silence that out did Dick.

"You gonna stop me from killing baddies?"  Jason asked.

 _Not that I’ve been doing much of that lately…_  

"Yup."

Jason knew Dick couldn't see him roll his eyes while his helmet was on but he was pretty sure he knew anyway.  "Then you're my handler." 

"Jay—"

"Save it, Dickie-bird."

"I'm here because I want to be."  Dick retorted, his stupid voice piercingly earnest.  "I'm not here because anyone's forcing me.  I'm not here because B. _strongly_ advised it.  I'm here because this is where I want to be."

Jason felt his throat go dry and scratchy.  He gulped at it, refusing to let it cause him to cough or make his voice crack.  "Whatever, let's go."

“What are we up to tonight?”  Dick inquired as he followed Jason into the night.

“Meeting a contact.”

“Eww, some shady underworld Red Hood connection?”  Dick pestered, in his typical cheery inflections.

“Yes.  Shut up.”

They swung to a lower rooftop.  Dick going through a series of highly unnecessary tumbles and flips along the way.  Jason found himself watching him from the corner of his eye as they raced along the graveled roof.  He had always been so fucking impressed by Dick, the way he moved, the way he fought; the way it was always seemed to be so effortless, like he was born to swing through the night.  Sometimes it felt like Jason had always been watching Dick.  He’d envied him, tried to be him, hated him, and idolized him in equal measures.  It was like his eyes were conditioned to seek the man out and linger on him.  

Dick turned his head to look at him and Jason snapped his eyes back forward even though Dick couldn’t see his face.

Dick had always been irritatingly distracting, a strobe light among candles.  

“Keep watch.”  Jason instructed as he sprung feet over head off a ledge, firing his grapple gun into the stone and easing his descent to the alley below.

“What do y’got for me, Skeevs?”  Jason demanded, surprising the already nervous thug.

“Jesus, Hood!”  The man exclaimed in a high whisper.

“You said you had information.”  Jason pressed, stepping aggressively into his informants space.

“Yeah, alright, shit…”  The guy stepped back and fidgeted by twisting the bill of his cap from the front to the back.  “So word on the street is Strange and Crane are working together on something big.”

“I already know that.”  Jason snapped, giving Skeevs a shove to the chest and causing the man to stumble back into the brick wall behind him.

Skeevs held up his hands in a placating gesture.  “They are also working with the US military.”

Not for the first time, Jason was thankful for his helmet hiding his face because surprise skittered across his features before he could rein it in.  He had sure as shit not suspected that.  He was also betting Bruce and the others didn’t either.    

Skeevs seemed to gain momentum in the face of Jason’s silence.  Stepping away from the wall and squaring his shoulders.

“Word is that Strange and Crane are meeting with some military bigwigs _tonight_.”

That had Jason’s full attention.  “Where?”

“Basement of some swanky joint called the Tobacconist’s Club.”

“I know the place.”

“Well it’s supposed to go down in, like, an hour.”

Jason took hold of Skeevs by the front of his t-shirt and shoved him hard against the brick wall of the building behind him.  Skeevs let out a panicked whine and tried to run.  Jason caught him by the throat and slammed him back against the wall.

“You better not be fucking with me, Skeevs.”  Jason brought his helmeted head in close.  “You know what happens to people who fuck with me.”

The informant only offered a frantic series of nods in response.

“Don’t forget it.”  Jason gave his neck one final squeeze before releasing it and firing his grapple and zipping back up to the roof.

“Is that really necessary?”  Dick asked, hip cocked to one side and arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes.”  Jason returned flatly.

He could feel Dick’s exasperation without even looking at him.

“I’m the one who’s willing to get his hands dirty so the rest of you can play at being holier than thou.”  Jason shot.  “If you don’t like it try and stop me or get the fuck out of my way.”

“I didn’t say anything.”  Dick drawled in his most innocent tone.

“I know what you were thinking.”  Jason grumbled heading in the direction of the Tobacconist’s Club.

“You always assume the worst, Little Wing.”

Jason felt a little shudder move though him without his consent at the stupid endearment.  He hated that Dick still called him that, for fucks sake he was a good couple inches taller than Dick now.  He hated that it made some juvenile part of him happy and achingly warm every time he heard it.  It was a feeling he did not like taking the time look too closely at.

They swung and ran their way to the Tobacconist’s Club in a silence that Jason was incredibly grateful for.  He didn’t try to ditch Dick; he’d tried that before.  The pesky fucking circus freak just gave chase and tracked him down and Jason didn’t have time for that tonight.  Truth be told, Jason was starting to really enjoy having Dick around.  He enjoyed the way it felt fighting along side him again, as equals now, rather than the strange mentor/rival dynamic they’d once had.  It had nothing to do with Jason’s lingering childish infatuation with Dick Grayson.  No way.  No how.  Nope.  Fuck you.

“So who exactly are we looking for here?”  Dick whispered close to Jason’s side.  

The bastard had zero concept of personal space.

“I don’t know.”  He growled.  “Military types of some kind.  Hugo Strange and Jonathan Crane.  Whoever.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should change into civvies and go in there.”  Dick suggested.

“You got civvies on you?”  Jason demanded, gesturing the the skintight minimalistic uniform Dick favored.  

Dick knocked their shoulders together in retaliation, smirking like they were old friends or some shit.  “ _Noooo_ , I could get O. or Alfred to arrange a drop.”

“No time.”

“Oh, come on, Hood.”  Dick whined.  “We could get some cool disguises, pretend to be strangers in the night.  You could wear a mustache.”

“If _anyone’s_ wearing a creeper stash, it’s _you_ , Golden Boy.”

“You know I’d rock that.”

“You’re delusional.  One too many blows to that pretty head of yours.”

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?”  Dick intoned.

“Shut up.  You’re a goddamn peacock.  _That_ should be your code name.”  

Dick snickered but returned to the problem at hand.  “We could get to the roof, see if we can get into the ventilation or something, eves drop.”

“Maybe…”

Despite his curt responses Jason liked their back and forth; he liked the banter; he liked the problem solving; Jason liked being part of a team more than he was willing to admit, at least out loud.

It was cut short however at the sound of approaching footsteps, causing both their heads to shoot up.  They were coming from all directions.  They were being surrounded.

“Mother fucker.”  Jason cursed, pulling his guns from their holsters.  “Fucking Skeevs.  He’s so dead.”

“Easy,” Dick soothed, pulling his escrima from behind his back.

And Jason’s body had the very confusing reaction of being calmed and being pissed off all at the same time.

“Well, look what my net has caught me.”  The haughty voice of Hugo Strange rang out from a tablet held out by one of the soldiers.

“On the plus side, looks like we found Strange.”  Dick muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Jason nudged him in the gut with an elbow.

“Nightwing and the Red Hood…” Strange mused.  “Not the Batman but formidable opponents to test my soldiers against.  I wonder, what price would the Batman pay to get the two of you back?”

“Aww, Hugie!”  Dick crooned.  “Can I call you Hugie?  I’m Gonna call you Hugie.  That’s so sweet.  I was just telling Hood that tonight was getting boring.  Wasn’t I, Hood?”

“Painfully boring.”  Jason agreed.  “Like, beat-my-head-against-a-brick-wall-if-someone-don’t-bring-me-some-bad-guys-to-pummel boring.

Dick nodded along knowingly.  “And here you are, hand delivering some redshirts for us to pummel.”

“Would’ve liked it more if you’d come in person, _Hugie_.”  Jason snarled.

“All of Batman’s strays are such mouthy little brats.”  Strange spat out.  “Let us see who’s snarking at the end of this.”

“Oh, it’ll be us.”  Dick assured.

“Damn straight.”  Jason nodded.

It was always amazing how isync had and Dick became once they had a common enemy.  They just clicked into place.

The soldiers began closing in on them.  Jason noted that there were at least two flyers among them.

“No killing.”  Dick whispered insistently out of the corner of his mouth.

“See, _handler_.”

Then it was just the two of them against a small army of superpowered soldiers.  This was his and Dick’s first encounter with these goons.  The others had all gone up against them at least once and he but Dick had read the reports so they were both prepared.  Dick had a variable toy chest of electrically charged gadgets and Jason was using specialty bullets that wouldn’t kill but would discharge a potent knockout gas.  It allowed the two of them to make relatively short work of their foes.

“Y’know…” Dick hummed as he ducked under the elastically, elongated arm of a soldier.  “You may have grown a little taller than me, but I think it’s made you slower.”   Dick came up and jabbed his escrima into the soldiers back, releasing an flow of electricity.  The soldier cried out as their rubbery form bubbled and vibrated with the current.

Jason scoffed and hurled a flashbang into two soldiers rushing them.  “Oh, I’m plenty fast, Boy Wonder.  Fast enough for _you_ anyway.”  He ducked low, grabbing another shoulder by the legs and hoisting them over his head and then dropped back down atop of them, elbows slamming into the guys gut.  

Jason sprung back up, expecting to see either laughter or affronted indignation on Dick’s face but instead he saw the other man’s face muscles dropping in to something resembling fear as he sprinted toward Jason.

“Hood!”  He cried.

In confusion, Jason turned in time to see glowing, red laser-disks spiraling toward him.  He realized he likely wouldn’t have time to get out of their way.  He could only minimize the damage and hope for the best at this point.  

Stupid Dick, distracting him in the middle of a fight.  

But before he could do much more he felt something collied with him, bearing him to the ground.  He heard a clipped hiss of breath through clenched teeth.  Dick was on top of him, head buried in Jason’s shoulder.  He saw that angry, crimson lines had been cut along one of Dick’s shoulder blades, right through his shirt.  He saw the blood.  It was all he could see.  He felt the familiar boil of rage roiling in his gut and rocketing up like a geyser.

He pushed out from under Dick and was racing toward the offending soldier.  He ducked and weaved through more laser disks and cracked one of his pistols across the man’s face.  To his credit the guy didn’t go down.  He fought back with strikes of his own, and flung out more of his deadly lasers.  Jason didn’t see them.  All he cared about was connecting his fists with this assholes face.  This son of a bitch who had hurt Dick—almost killed him.  He blanked out, lost in a green fog and the feeling of bone and flesh giving way beneath his knuckles.

Arm’s pulled at his shoulders.  He jerked them off.  Arms went under his armpits and hoisted him up and away from his target.

“Enough, Hood!”  A voice commanded.

Jason struggled savagely in the interferers hold.

“Stop, Little Wing.”  This time the voice was softer, pleading.

 _Dick…_ Jason realized.  He went rigid, the fog slowly breaking.  He looked down to see the bloodied mess he’d made of the man’s face.  The man coughed in a splutter of blood and groaned miserably.

“It’s okay.”  Dick whispered.

The fuck it was.

Jason jerked free of Dick and spun to survey their surroundings.  All their attackers were unconscious and scattered around them.  He took one more look at the ruined mess of meat that was the face of the man he had just been brutalizing before he turned and ran.

“Wait!”  Dick called.

But Jason didn’t stop.  He ran and swung until his chest burned and his muscles ached in protest.  He finally stopped on a flat roof surrounded on all sides by several other pitched roofs.  It was closed in; it was private; it felt safe.  He was reaching his hands up to flip the latches that would open his helmet when he heard someone land hard behind him.

“Jesus,” Dick panted.  “Remind me to never call you slow again.”

Jason rounded on him.  “Get the hell out of here!”

“No.”  Dick replied firmly.

“Leave me alone!”

“No.”

God damn Dick Grayson.

"You push!"  Jason yelled, kicking in the panel of an air-conditioning unit.  "That's all you do!  You push, and you push and _fucking_ push!"  He shoved Dick right in the chest with both hands for emphasis. 

Dick took the shove well, letting his shoulders roll and taking a single step backwards.  Lines formed on his forehead as he frowned.  Then he snapped forward and shoved Jason right back causing Jason to take couple of surprised steps backward.

“Yeah, that's right!  I push.  You know _why_ I push?  Because I give a shit, Little Wing.  I give a shit about _you_!  I've tried it your way.  I've given you space, let you runaway whenever you get upset and I'm _done_ with that.  I'm not going anywhere."

Jason felt like he'd been slammed into by a semi.  His chest felt tight, like Killer Croc was standing on it.  "Fuck off..."  It wasn't creative or relevant but it was all he could think of.  He had to say something.

"No."

"I'm not your pet project."  Jason growled.  "I don't need you to save me.  I like who I am now.  I like what I do.  Go find some other way to relieve your guilt."

"You're right."  Dick said, voice low and just above a whisper.  "I feel guilty.  I hate myself.  When I see you—when I think about what you've been through..." He looked away.

And Jason hated him in that moment.  He hated how open and sincere Dick's face could be when he let it, even when it was half covered by his mask.

"I should have been there!  I should have mentored you more, been there to talk to you and..."

"And what?  Be my 'big brother'?"  Jason spat, fingers making exaggerated air quotes.

"Been your friend."  Dick corrected taking a step closer to him.  "Maybe then..."

"It wouldn't have changed a damn thing."  Jason shot.  He had no idea why he was comforting Dick all of a sudden.  Maybe he didn't hate Dick.  Maybe he hated all that stupid guilt that was living inside of him.  

"You don't know that."

"I know it's stupid to spend so much time looking back."

“That’s true.”  Dick replied.  “And that's why I'm here now.  That's why I'm not going anywhere no matter how hard you push."  He moved forward, his movements slow but not cautious.  He reached out and gripped the sides of Jason's helmet.  Jason's instincts screamed at him to attack to do something to get away.  No matter how stupid and sentimental, Dick was dangerous and should never be allowed to get under his guard.  But Jason didn't move.  He didn't know what Dick was doing but his face was getting closer.  There was a hollow clunk as Dick's forehead collided with his helmet.  

"I'm staying right here."  Dick’s eyes managed to bore into Jason's despite the incline of his head and Jason's helmet being in the way.

Jason's HUD showcased just how fast his heart rate had become and how his body temperature had risen.  He was aware of his esophagus twisting into an agonizing knot in his chest.  He could feel his knees turn into gelatin.  He felt unsteady and suddenly weak.

"Fuck you."  He whispered and realized there were tears stinging under the lids of his eyes."  He couldn't stop his voice from breaking.  "Fuck you, Dick Grayson."

And then he just fell into Dick's arms.  His grip fierce and crushing on the other man.  He shook with his sobs and couldn't seem to stop.  He was falling apart and he fucking hated it.  He hated that Dick was all that seemed to be keeping him together.

Dick's hands fisted into the leather of Jason's jacket like a vice.  Jason cried.  He cried.  And he cried. And he cried.  And Dick kept holding him.

Jason felt anger beginning to bubble up from inside his core; images of hissing, roiling, green water flashed though his mind.  He felt himself coiling in defensiveness. They were old and familiar body guards that came on scene every time Jason felt vulnerable and afraid.  He honestly felt like they'd been there all his life.  They’d helped him survive.  They helped Jason do what he did best, pull away.

He jerked out of Dick's embrace and turned his back to him.  He felt like he couldn't breath.  He felt like the inside of his helmet was closing in on him and the visual confirmation of his spiking vitals the helmet provided was making it worse.  The helmet hissed as he popped it off and threw it to the ground.

"Jason," He heard Dick's voice following him.  He was fucking relentless, this bastard.

Jason didn't really know why he did it.  He thought that he maybe wanted to make Dick hate him.  He wanted to do something that would drive him away in disgust.  And maybe part of him had just always wondered what it would be like.  Whatever the reason, he whirled on Dick, fisted his hands in his hair and jerked him into a kiss that was savage and rough.

He had wanted Dick to recoil from him.  He had wanted him to spit at him, to curse.  He'd wanted him the punch him.  But Dick just took it.  He took it and then eventually gave it back.  His hand gripped the edges of Jason's jacket and pulled him closer.  He moaned as Jason rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.  

Jason couldn't stop.  He'd started this and now he couldn't get himself to pull away.  Not when Dick Grayson's arms had slid through his jacket and he had planted one of his legs between Jason’s.  Not when Jason's fingers were fumbling with the clasps and straps of Dick's costume, disarming its safeguards as he went.  Not when Dick was saying things like:  "I'm right here" or "I'm not going anywhere" over and over.  Not when he kept calling him "Little Wing" and, fuck, it was like having his lungs ripped out every time Dick said it.

Dick had gone to work on Jason's costume as well.  The jacket was off.  Piece after piece was shucked away, their mouths only parting when absolutely necessary before crashing back together like they had somehow been galvanized.  Then Jason was kissing and biting his way down Dick's chest, sinking to his knees and taking him in his mouth.  Dick's hands were in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, arching his back and groaning out obscenely.

Nightwing, the figure of countless sexual fantasies, didn't last long before he was crying out and convulsing, fingers tightening painfully in Jason's hair.  Jason sucked him through it, unwilling to pull away.  Then Dick's knees actually gave out and he collapsed in front of him.  He was panting and his pupils were blown wide leaving only a thin ring of perfect blue.  Jason just stared back at him gasping and a little bit in shock.

Then Dick was suddenly kissing him hungrily and shoving him down to lay on his back as he enthusiastically returned the favor.  Jason felt like he was on fire, like it was crackling underneath his skin and burning him up from the inside out.  Dick hadn't lasted very long and Jason somehow managed to last embarrassingly shorter; biting down on his own hand to keep from crying out, to keep from saying Dick’s name.  

It had been so long sine someone had touched him, since he had _let_ someone touch him.  It had been so long since he felt like someone cared, like someone wanted to do something good to him.  It had been so long since he'd just let go.  

He blinked the stars out his eyes as he gazed up at the actual starts in the sky.  He felt the breeze cooling the sweat on his skin.  His chest was beginning to rise and fall at a more even pace.  That was when his mind started to catch up to him.  That was never a good thing.

"Don't make this weird."  Dick's lips were against his ear, voice sleepy and content.  

He nosed aggressively into Jason's neck and flung an arm and leg over him.

Weird?  Weird!?  How the hell was this not weird?  How was this not utter fucking madness?  How was Dick so okay with it?  He should leave.  He needed to go.

"Stop it."  Dick scolded.  "I can literally hear all that brooding rolling around in your skull."  He squeezed him tighter.

“This was stupid.”  Jason said, attempting to get up.

Dick’s mouth was on his again, peppering him with insistent kisses.

Jason felt betrayed by his own body as it relaxed and returned those kisses without his permission.

“I’m serious.”  He managed between their mouths.

“I know…” still Dick persisted, lips moving up Jason’s cheek and over his eyes and into his hairline.

“This was stupid.”  Jason repeated in what was basically sigh, one hand tracing up and along Dick’s spine.  The thought of asking him to come back with him to his closest safe houses was in serious danger of making its way down from his head and out his mouth.

“Maybe…” Dick conceded leaning over him and looking down at him.

And, god, Dick was so gorgeous it physically hurt, like a knife in the kidney.  His raven-hair fell in a curtain around his face, and he was smiling at Jason like he hung the fucking moon.  Jason couldn’t take it.  He felt like he was breaking apart.  This time when he shoved Dick away, he did so with more force and was very near a completely different kind of panic.  Dick let out a surprised huff as he landed on his back.  Jason pushed to his feet and quickly began putting his suit back on.

“Jay,” Dick bided, getting to his feet looking unsure of what to do.

“Don’t, Dick.”  Jason basically pleaded.  “I shouldn’t’ve done that.”  He tugged his jacket on.  “We should never talk about this again.”

“C’mon, Little Wing, look at me.”  Dick had at least managed to get the pants of his suit back on but the sight of his naked torso and the bruises Jason’s mouth had dotted it with was still too much for him.  “Talk to me.”

Jason opened his moth and then closed it.  What could he possibly say to him?  That he didn’t deserve someone like Dick Grayson?  That the boiling, green evil inside of him would taint Dick—ruin him?  He couldn’t say a single one of those things because then Dick would be on him, like shit on the bottom of a shoe, just like the sappy golden retriever he was.  

Jason knew he couldn’t do this.  Dick was everything that was good in the world.  He couldn’t allow Dick to make that kind of stupid mistake.  Self-preservation was never Dick’s strong suit.     

How that hell had Jason gotten himself into this situation?

Jason wanted to lash out with violence, that might succeed in pushing Dick away.  But the feeling of Dick’s lips on his own was too fresh.  The memory of Dick going down on him too alive.  His brain was still too soft with post orgasmic bliss.  So he clamped his mouth shut and quickly put on his helmet and fled into the night before Dick had the chance to follow him.  Because Jason Todd was actually a coward.  He was also far more rational than anyone gave him credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that happened...*shrugs helplessly* 
> 
> I honestly did not plan for this chapter to go the way it did. It just did. 
> 
> The excuse I'm going with is that both Jason and Dick are passionate and physical people.
> 
> As you might have noticed I defiantly drew inspiration from the New 52 and Rebirth when it came to Jason's characterization. Full disclosure, I'm not a big fan of his prior to that and his characterization is one of the few things I think New 52 got right. Hope you all don't mind the change.
> 
> Up Next: Disaster Hearts


	9. Disaster Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is an irritable mess and he peruse's the mystery of Leviathan with a narrow-minded determination that has the bat-family worried.
> 
> Alfred is all kinds of wise.
> 
> Conner's angry and in dire need of things to punch. He also makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guy! This is officially my most kudos'd (is that a word? I'm making that a word) work! My heart is melting over here. I want to write you sonnet's and poems and all the bat-fam fics! I love you guys and thank you so much for all the kudos, comments, and support. You keep me going!
> 
> Disclaimers: I don't own these characters or the universe they reside. This is for fun and writing practice.
> 
> This is also not beta'd (though that could be changing soonish) so all mistakes are on me.
> 
> Also, things are a wee bit explicit at the end so...yeah...I'm sorry? Or your welcome?

St. Josephine’s Home for Wayward Children was an old nunnery.  It was old in the way the way that old oaks were old; solid, grounded, and inexplicably wise.  The large, brown stones that it was constructed from lent it a gravity and dignity that none of the modern buildings that surrounded it could even begin to claim to match.

In the past five years St. Josephine’s had become a haven for refugee children from war torn countries across the world.  It had been awarded numerous grants and several prestigious awards for its humanitarian efforts.  It had become a beacon of benevolence in a cold, dark world.

Tim really hoped that his theory about this place was wrong.  He really hoped that he was too tired to see the patterns in the data correctly.  He hoped he had finally gone full on delusional.  He hadn’t.  Tim was right.  He didn’t make mistakes about these kinds of things.  

He watched as the woman left St. Josephine’s and climbed into a black car with limo-tinted windows that had been parked outside for the better part of an hour and it drove her away from the orphanage.  She had longer hair than before; she was sporting glasses; and she was wearing a fairly nondescript pantsuit, but Tim recognized her.  He’d managed to snap a few photos and he’d have it confirmed by the computers back at the Cave, but he was certain.

It was Nyssa al Ghul.  She was supposed to be dead.  But then, no member of the al Ghul family ever seemed to stay dead for long.  The word on the street had been that Nyssa had been assassinated by her own father but it was hard to know with the League; they always played the long game.  

It was as Tim had suspected:  The League of Assassins was involved in all this Leviathan business somehow.

It was ultimately the encryption protocols in the data package Steph and Selina had obtained from Penguin that had tipped Tim off.  None of the actual data pointed back to the League; they were far too careful for that.  But Tim had been inside their closed network; he’d seen their encryptions and defenses and he recognized some of those same security measures as he and Babs had combed through the data.

Tim had known he hadn’t seen the last of the League after he’d foiled Ra’s al Ghul’s plans.  He just wasn’t entirely certain that this was Ra’s.  Something about it was distinctly League but at the same time…something… _something_ was off.  He couldn’t quite nail it down; it was something lurking in the periphery of his mind, something elusive.  It was driving him insane.  He hated feeling like he was missing something; it was like a sharp burr between his toes that wouldn’t dislodge itself no matter how much he tried.  That meant only one thing.  Tim would obsess over it until he figured it out and he had been going at it _hard_ for over a week.  

It had been enough to cause others to express concern and chid him for not taking care of himself again.  They remarked on how well he had been doing before and how he had slipped into bad habits again.  Tim ignored them.  He continued to go off into the night by himself.  He’d been spending a _lot_ of time on his own.  Ever since his fight—and maybe breakup—with Conner he’d been in a foul mood.  He alternated between hurtling razor-sharp verbal barbs and coiling into icy silences at the slightest provocation.  The result was that no one wanted to patrol or followup leads with him these days.  Which was perfectly fine with Tim; he didn’t want to be around anyone.

He was being angsty and petulant and he knew it, but he couldn’t muster up the motivation to try and pull himself out of it.  He didn’t have the mental energy to devote to that.  He was throwing everything he had into the mystery of Leviathan.  If he allowed himself to rest his mind invariably went dashing off to Conner.  He agonized over what had happened between them that night after Tim had been dosed with fear-toxin.  He would replay it over and over again with his perfect memory and each time it was utter agony.

Part of Tim, a coldly rational part of him, said that this was for the best.  He kind of hated that part of himself right now.  That was the part of him that had gotten him into this mess.  That was the part that kept fucking with his personal life.

Tim was smart.  Tim was down right fucking brilliant.  It was what made it possible for him to do what he did.  It was the trait that set him apart as from his brothers.  It was the very thing that had made Ra’s al Ghul target him as a worthy potential successor.  But for all that intellect and cool rationality, Tim still couldn’t seem to keep from feeling like he was screwing up his life.

He thought about calling Conner.  He was pretty sure he thought about somewhere around a million times each day.  But he had no idea what to say.  He’d secretly—shamefully—hoped that Conner would contact him.  But his best friend (if he could call him that any more) kept his distance, true to his parting words.  It was on Tim to figure out what he wanted.

Tim knew what he wanted.  He wanted Conner, that had never been in question.  But the data couldn’t be ignored.  It was right in front him, demanding to be taken seriously.  Loving someone, like he loved Conner, in this line of work could only lead to disaster.  It would only end in pain.  Tim was trying to protect them both from that pain.  Tim had already felt that pain; he had already seen what it did to you, what it turned you into.

In truth, he didn’t think he could survive losing Conner again.

_Aren’t you losing him now?_

And there his mind had gone again, right into ruminations about Conner.  Tim gave his head a shake and then comm’d Babs.

“O. I think I’ve got another orphanage operation down at St. Josephine’s Home for Wayward Children.  Can you send a team in to check it out?”

“Affirmative,” Oracle replied, without missing a beat.  “Black Bat and Red Hood are nearby.”

“Can you get Psi there?”

“He’s assisting Batgirl and Robin with another case.”  She informed.

“Pull him off of that if you can.  Remember the last orphanage.”

“Agreed.  What about you?”

“I’ve got a lead.  It can’t wait.”

“Do you need backup?”

“Negative.”

“Tim—“

“I’m fine, Oracle.”  Tim bit.  He immediately regretted it and softened his tone.  “It’s just some recon, nothing crazy.  I promise.”

“Alright,” he heard her sigh on the other end.  “Keep your tracker on and comm the _instant_ you need any help.”

“Will do.”

“You know you can talk to me…if you need to, right?”  She ventured.

“Yeah,” Tim replied.  “Thank’s, Babs.”

With that Tim swung into the night, following the very unremarkable, black car.  He alternated between gliding on his cape and grappling along ledges.  He observed that the car went through several maneuvers, likely ensuring that no one was tailing them.  More than once the car seemed to use a particularly tall building to angle around, causing Tim to drastically rethink his own course and almost lose sight of it.  

At one point the car stopped out in front of Sacks Fifth Avenue and Nyssa stepped out of the car and into the store.  It forced Tim to immediately deploy his Wayne Tech x-ray vision in his domino in order to track her as she went directly down to the parking garage in the basement and got into yet another car.  She was being almost paranoid.  But he supposed that made sense given how much Batman Inc. had been dogging them lately.  

They were getting close to finding some real answers about Leviathan.

Tim managed to stick with her the whole way and watched as her second car pulled up to a building consisting mainly of luxury high rise apartments in downtown Gotham, not far from Wayne Tower.  The car drove into an underground garage and Tim transitioned back to his x-ray vision and watched from a nearby fire escape.

He kept track of the body he believed to be Nyssa as she took an elevator up into the main floor and then moved to another set of elevators that lead up to the suits.  At the same time Tim also began working on hacking into the buildings security network to analyze its defenses.  It was all fairly standard stuff until he got to the top floor; that’s when things got very next level.  More than once he had pull back his probes into the network in order to keep from alerting the system to his presence.

Sure as shit, Nyssa went right up to the top floor penthouse. 

Tim called in his drone and did a flyby.  He scanned for possible entry points, weaknesses in the perimeter.  There was nothing.  It was locked up tight.  Tim couldn’t get in and he couldn’t risk trying to plant a bug with what he had on him.  He’d have to take the data back to the Cave and formulate a strategy, coordinate with Barbara.  

“How are things going at St. Josephine’s?”  Tim inquired, mindfully aiming for casual due to his previous rudeness.  Barbara didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his personal dysfunction.

“Raping up nicely.”  Barbara informed.  “Psi was able to come in and assist but there was no sign of Crane or Strange.  There were some Zing-powered guards but the three of them were able to dispatch them without any major injuries.  But—“

“What is it?”

“The children were further along in whatever it is Leviathan has been doing to them.  They were brainwashed.  They attacked them.  They had also been dosed with Zing.”

“Shit…”

“Yeah, Red Hood’s pissed.”

That was probably an understatement of epic proportions.  If there was one thing that pushed Jason’s buttons it was when people messed with kids.

“Psi said something about the children having developed some kind of ‘hive-mind’.  They’ve managed to subdue them but Psi isn’t sure the damage is repairable.”

“Do they need back up?”

“No, Batman’s on scene now.  They’ve got it under control.”

Tim rolled his neck, working out a kink that had formed in the muscles there.  “Cool, I think—I think I’ll head in.”

“Sounds good.  I’ll see you when you get here.”

Tim glided back to where he’d left his motorcycle in an alley and hopped onto it and sped back to the Cave.  The whole drive he forced his mind to focus on possible solutions for dealing with the security at Nyssa’s fortified penthouse.  He willfully forced his mind to stay away from a certain half-kryptonian with broad shoulders, a perfect smile, and cobalt eyes.

He zipped into the cave with the screech of burning rubber.  He dismounted and moved his bike into the rotating rack of vehicles that the Cave housed and made his way further inside.  Barbara was still at the computer, a series of maps up on the screens.  She turned and glanced over her shoulder as he walked by.  She looked like she wanted to talk or ask him something but settled for a smile before she began talking into her headset, clearly engaged in coordinating something else out in the field.  Tim returned her smile and continued on his way without waiting to see if she got a moment to speak to him.  He had a feeling she was going to ask about what had been going on with him lately and he wanted to avoid that particular conversation at all costs.  

Tim made his way to the lockers at the back of the Cave and began pulling off the various pieces of his suit and arranging them in his locker.  He used a cotton swab to apply the solvent around the edges of his domino in order to loosen the adhesive that held it in place.  Then he grabbed the warm, fresh towel waiting for him and began to wipe the remnants of the adhesive and the nights sweat from his face.

He sat down on the bench and pulled out his phone, hoping despite himself to see a message or missed call from Conner.  There was nothing, just a random cat meme curtesy of Bart.  Before he knew what he was doing Tim had closed out his texts and opened up his photo album.  He clicked on the one of the last picture that had been taken and found himself staring at a picture of he and Conner.

Tim was clearly some kind of emotional masochist.  He might need professional help.

The picture was a result of Conner having stolen Tim’s phone.  He had swooped up behind Tim and looped an arm around his shoulders insisting on a selfie.  Conner was mildly obsessed with goofie Pixtagraph selfie filters.  He’d chosen one that gave them both dog ears and snouts that resembled Krypto’s and smiled cheerily at the screen, all pearly-white teeth.

Tim stared down at the picture for a long time.  His own expression in the photo was one of tight lips that attempted to suppress his laughter and joy.  His eyes betrayed him however; they crinkled in the corners and shone.  He knew what swiping left would do; he knew it was a bad idea, but he did it anyway.  The next picture was Conner surprising him by pressing an aggressive kiss into his cheek.  It had caused Tim’s laugh to finally break free; it made him look boyish, carefree, and happy.  Tim almost didn’t recognize himself in that picture.    

He felt a thick, jagged lump forming in his throat.  He tried to swallow past it but it wouldn’t leave him.  His chest got tight and drawing in enough air seemed harder than it reasonably should be.  

“You know, you are allowed to be happy.”  A voice cut in from behind him.

Tim jolted, so absorbed that he hadn’t even heard Alfred walking up behind him.  He turned and glanced up sheepishly, knowing that he had just been caught.

“It is an unhealthy trait of this family to push away the few things in life that can bring true happiness.”

Tim felt his face heat up and he quickly pressed the home button, banishing the photos.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Tim returned cooly.

“Do not play witless with me, Master Timmothy.”  Alfred scolded.  “We both know what was going on with you and Master Conner.”  He gave Tim a pointed look.  “And we both know what is going on now.”

Tim felt a rush of shame jet upward from his gut.  “He already died on me once, Alfred.  It’s only a matter of time until one of us does it again.  It’s kind of a theme in our line of work.”

The butler actually scoffed.  That was a bad sign.  Alfred almost _never_ scoffed.  Scoffing was terribly bad manners.  “We all die.  It is a fact of life.  You are afraid and you are letting that fear control you.”

Tim felt like he had just been slapped.  It was so incredibly rare for Alfred to be this stern and forward.  It was only when they were being exceptionally thick that he took on this stance and tone.

“Alfred—I…”

“Love—real love—is such a rare thing, Master Timmothy.”  Alfred’s voice went soft and tender.  “It is every parents wish that their child find someone who respects them; who truly cherishes them; who would do anything for them.”  That lump in Tim’s throat became impossibly thicker, both because of the truth in Alfred’s words and the implication of Alfred considering Tim something akin to his son.  “Do not let your fear prevent you from having something like that.”  The butler, who was so much more than a butler to them all, reached out and gripped Tim’s shoulder and squeezed.  

Tim felt like he maybe wanted to cry but he held it together.  Instead he nodded dumbly and then said:  “Thank you, Alfred.”

The older man smiled fondly at him.  “My pleasure, Master Timmothy.”  And with that he turned and left.

Tim bit his bottom lip and nodded to himself, making a choice and spurring himself onward.  He looked back down at his phone and thought about calling Conner.  He was going to try and fix this even if he had to beg Conner to give him a second chance.  He’d royally fucked up and he needed some kind of gesture to prove to Conner he was done second guessing their relationship.  He needed to prove to him that he was all in.   So he decided to take a shower.  He could use the time to think over what he would say and do.  He also didn’t want to risk Conner flying over before he’d had a chance to wash away the grime of patrol.  

He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

###

Conner’s fist collided with the androids face.  His TTK-shrouded fist crashed through the metal, wires, and circuits in a hissing spray of sparks.  He ground his teeth together violently.  It felt _good_ to hit something, so _fucking_ good.  He turned and sent an uppercut into the abdomen of another robot.  More, he needed more things to hit—to crush.

Why was Tim such a stubborn asshole?  Why was he always so intent on pushing away the good things in life?  How could he push _Conner_ away?  Conner!  

Conner had somehow always believed himself to be immune to that particular brand of bat-family dysfunction, even before they’d moved things to the next level.  God, he had been an idiot.  No one was safe.  That whole family needed _so_ much fucking therapy.

He was so lost in his internal deliberations that he didn’t realize there was another android rushing up on him.  He turned, catching the movement out of the corner of his vision, just in time to see a sword pierce the head of the synthetic humanoid.  It sputtered out some mechanized nonsense as the CPU was destroyed and then it collapsed in a heap of useless metal.

Rose (aka Ravager) pulled the blade free and placed one hand to her cocked hip.  Her full, blood-red lips slid upward in one corner in a coy half-smile.  “Where’s your head at, Superboy?”  She teased.

“No where,” Conner growled out.  He scanned the area but it seemed that Rose had taken out the last of these Skynet rejects.

“Sure…” Rose drawled out, grin growing larger and her one eye brightening.  “Relationship troubles, huh.”

Conner frowned at her.

She sauntered closer to him, a collection of rhythmically swaying curves.  “Definitely relationship troubles.”  She concluded, crowding into Conner’s space.   

She was so close he could smell her, a mix of clean sweat and—of all cliches—rose oil.  He could feel the heat flowing off of her body in a steady stream.  

“Trouble in paradise with Little Miss Wonderful?”

“We broke up.”  Conner supplied, not really meaning Cassie but deciding it was all right if Rose thought that this was about Cassie.  “Or decided to not get back together or whatever…”

“I see,” the assassin hummed, sliding up onto the balls of her feet.  “Not what the Amazon princess wants any more, hmm?”

“Something like that.”  Conner felt his pulse kicking up as Rose leaned in closer.  His eyes darted down to those red lips.

“Some girls don’t appreciate a true male specimen.”  She whispered, her eye going closed, her hand sliding up and gripping the collar of Conner’s shirt.

Conner imagined giving in, imagined learning in and letting Rose press her lips to his.  It would be so much simpler in some ways.  Rose was a girl.  She was beautiful and she had been flirting with him for ages.  But the memory of another hand fisting in his shirt slashed through his minds eye, a memory of a moment that had changed everything.  And nothing about this moment was right; her smell wasn’t right.  Rose was strong, agile, and deadly but her body didn’t fit against his like it should.  The hand gripping his collar was too slender.  She wasn’t _Tim_.  

He turned his head and Rose’s lips only caught the corner of Conner’s mouth.  He put his hand to the one she gripped his collar with and gently pried her grip away and stepped back and bowed his head.  Once more he saw Tim’s face flash through his minds eye.  

“I’m flattered, Rose, really I am.”  Conner said and then took a deep breath.  “But it’s more complicated than you know and…” his hand’s curled into fists.  “I’m not done fighting yet.”  It was more of a self-admission than an explanation for Rose’s benefit.  

For her part Rose didn’t seem upset in the least.  She cocked her head to the side and actually smiled at him.  “Can’t blame a girl for trying.  Oh, but we could’ve had some fun…” she trailed off suggestively.

Conner laughed.  “I have no doubt about that.  But this…this is love…the real fucking thing.  The kind of thing all those rock and roll ballads sing about.”

Rose giggled at that.  “I really hope Cassie understands what she’s got.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s not Cassie…” Conner replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Rose looked genuinely surprised for the first time, her mouth making a small “O”.

“You good here?”  Conner asked abruptly.  “I gotta be somewhere.”

“Umm, sure…I’ll report this whole thing to the JLA and I got the ship—”

“Cool,” Conner cut her off and lifted up into the night sky.  “Thanks, Ravager!”

He didn’t wait for a reply.  He pulled his TTK around him tightly and hardened it.  Then he went full super-speed, breaking the sound barrier and flying straight for Gotham.  For the first time in at least a week he allowed his hearing to stretch out and search for the achingly familiar thrum of a heartbeat.  He felt his own heartbeat jitter, like the wagging tale of an excited puppy, the instant he caught the sound of it.  He honed in on it and followed it.

He was a little unnerved when it led him to Wayne Manor.  He had a brief moment of panic and almost turned tail and ran back to Smallville but he had made the decision to fight for Timmothy Jackson Drake-Wayne so he landed and walked up to the front door.  

The big, oak doors opened as his foot hit the first step and Alfred Pennyworth stood in the massive doorway, haloed by the sallow light coming from inside the manor.

“Master Conner,” he greeted, placid as ever.

Conner shook off the chill that ran through him.  “Uh, hey, Alf.  You guys got a homing chip implanted in me or something like that?”

“Something like that.”  The butler replied.

“Well…that’s creepy…” Conner muttered.

“Master Timmothy is showering.”  Alfred informed, ignoring Conner’s comment and accurately guessing his reason for showing up at the Manor this late and unannounced.

“I…uh…I can wait.”  Conner replied, looking down at his feet and scuffing his boot against the step.

Alfred stared at him for a long moment as if measuring him.

Conner felt skittish under that gaze and found him self speaking before he’d given his mouth permission.  “I love him, Alfred.”  

Well, shit…he supposed it didn’t matter.  The butler clearly knew what was going on between them.

Conner swallowed and barreled onward.  “I’m not letting him go without a fight.  He’s so damn _stubborn_.  He never trusts anything.  And if he really doesn’t want me then I’ll let him go.  But I’m not going without fighting for him first.”  He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, daring the man to express his displeasure or attempt to dissuade him.

Then something he hadn’t expected happened.  Alfred smiled; it was a wide, warm, grandfatherly smile.  He stepped aside and motioned for Conner to enter the mansion.

“You, Master Conner, might very well be the best thing that has ever happened to Master Timmothy.”

Conner stopped and gaped stupidly at the butler.

“I assume you know the way.”  Alfred said, and to Conner’s further shock winked.

Conner could only nod before finally getting his feet under his control and heading up the stairs towards Tim’s room.  This was sure as shit not how Conner had thought this day was going to go.

###

Tim scrubbed shampoo through his damp hair; it filled the tepid, steam-shrouded shower with the scent of coconut.  He rubbed his fingers roughly along his scalp and then raked his fingers along the lengthy strands before rinsing it under the steady spray from the jets in the ceiling.  Then he filled his palm with a heavy dose of conditioner and went about the process again.  He did all this on autopilot as he ran dozens of scenarios through his brain regarding his apology to Conner.  He attempted to account for all situations and all responses and the appropriate groveling that each would require.

He breathed in deeply, letting the steam fill up his lungs.  He thought about getting Conner some kind of apology gift, something that would adequately communicate his level of stupidity and regret.  But he was not exactly sure what kind of gift could accomplish that kind of feat.  Tim really wished there were peer-reviewed research articles about this sort of thing.  Then he might have the smallest inkling of what to do in this situation.  He had not idea how to even begin fixing things between them.

He had just finished rinsing conditioner out of his hair when he heard the bathroom door open.  He started and immediately dropped into a fighting posture, angling his feet and widening his stance.  He half expected to see Damian in the doorway with a knife in hand, because this _maybe_ might not be the first time that had happened.  But instead of his slightly murderous adoptive-brother he saw Conner there, shoulders back and jaw squared as though he were about to face down Doomsday.  He strode over to the large glass door of the standing shower and yanked it open.

Puffy clouds of damp, foggy clouds steamed out the glass door and into Conner.  Tim felt his own jaw go slack in legitimate shock.  He was suddenly aware of just how naked he was and fought the urge to bring his hands down to cover his crotch.

“I’m not giving up.”  Conner informed, without preamble, and in his best Super voice.  “I know you’re freaked about something.  I know that this is scary.  But I want this.  I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted before.  Tim, I think this might be something seriously special, like, Wendy and Seraph special.”

Tim didn’t know when he had started walking toward Conner, pulled to him like the tides to the shore.  It felt like his life’s story.  Hadn’t he always been moving toward Conner?

“It was supposed to be me.”  Tim whispered.

“What?”  Conner asked with a confused frown.

“I should’ve been the one coming to find you.  I should be apologizing to you, begging you to give me another chance after I acted like such an ass.  I was trying to think of a way to tell you just how fucking sorry I am.”  Tim spluttered out all at once.  “I was so stupid, Conner.  I freaked.  I was just so fucking scared of losing you again…”

Conner reached into the shower and brought a hand to cup Tim’s face, thumb rubbing along the wet skin of his cheekbone.  “Jesus, Tim, you’re scared to death of living and it breaks my fucking heart.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut against the tears he already felt stinging his eyes.  How did Conner always do this to him?  He was fairly certain he’d never been in danger of crying this much in his life.  He leaned his head into the half-Kryptonian’s touch.

“Life is short.”  Conner continued in a low but steady voice.  “Life is unpredictable.  We _know_ this.  Shit, dude, that goes _double_ for us.  But if we don’t live then what’s the fucking point?”  Conner’s other hand came up and cupped the side of Tim’s neck.  “I want to promise you I wont ever leave you again, that you and me will grow into grumpy-ass old geezers together but I can’t make that promise, no one can.”  He leaned further into the shower and pressed his forehead into Tim’s, hard and solid, and clearly unconcerned with getting wet.  “All I can promise is to love the shit out of you and _live_ with you.”  He nudged Tim’s nose with his own.  “I’m scared shitless of losing you too, man…” Conner moved in slowly, inch by torturous inch, until he met Tim’s lips in a kiss that was slow and tender.  He pulled back a hair space away and whispered:  “Live with me Tim…please…”

And god, Tim couldn’t get his mouth to work again.  His throat was dry as desert asphalt.  He was scared.  Conner was right.  He’d been terrified to actually live his life for over a year now.  He had figured he was just living on borrowed time.  Weren’t they all?  But if they were, why waste it?  Conner was right.  What was the point if they didn’t?

He nodded, because his vocal abilities were still questionable and despite his trust in Conner he still didn’t fancy breaking into undignified sobs in front of him.  “I want that.”  He finally forced out.  “More than anything.  I’m sorry.”  He reiterated.  “God, I really fucked things up…”  

Conner gave him a few long, relieved kisses.  “Y’know…for a genius you can be kinda stupid sometimes y’know that, Rob?”

Tim let out a surprised chuckle at the playful jab.  He nodded.  “And somewhere along the line you grew up, Clone Boy.”

Conner pulled back and craned his neck, preening with a shit-eating grin.  “You noticed that, did you?”  He waggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah…yeah I did.”  Tim touched a damp hand to Conner’s face.  “It suits you.”  Then he stepped part way out of the shower and threw himself into a kiss that carried with it all his desperation and fear.  “I love you Conner Kent, Kon-El, Superboy…I love you so _fucking_ much.”

Conner kissed him right back matching his intensity.  Then he smirked wickedly and began pushing Tim back and forcing his way into the shower, Tim took several ungainly steps backward; his feet slapping loudly against the puddled floor.

“What are you doing?”  Tim’s voice was a mix of humor and shock.

Conner didn’t answer as he continued on into the warm spray of the shower jets without bothering to remove any of his clothing.  He just strode right in, boots and all.  The water pelted the fabric of Conner’s cloths in big wet plops, plastering them obscenely to his skin.  Conner tugged his Superboy t-shirt up over his head as he stalked toward Tim, tossing it to the side; it hit the shower floor with a soppy squish.

Humor won out as Tim burst into a fit of laughter, unable to help himself.  It was equal parts ridiculous and neuron-implodingly hot.  It was also just so Conner that it made his heart melt.  

“You’re ridiculous.”  Tim smiled as Conner cornered him agains the tiled wall, his back going flush against the slippery surface.

Conner’s arms came up to bracket Tim in before he dove in and claimed his lips with a growl.  Tim’s arms slid around Conner’s waist and up his back, fingers digging into the firm muscles there.  He felt utterly enflamed.  It had only been a little over a week but it felt like an eternity since he had touched Conner, felt his strength and weight over him.

He needed more.

Tim became frantic with that need.  His hands slid down around to Conner’s chest and then down his abdomen before reaching his belt.  His fingers fumbled stupidly with the buckle as he desperately tried to get his boyfriend out of his cloths, highly dissatisfied with the super-clone’s current state of dress.  

He wanted to seep into Conner, like snow into warm earth.  He wanted to feel their slick skin seam together; he wanted every single millimeter of them to be in contact.  Even that didn’t feel like it could possibly be enough.  He was already painfully past hard at this point.  

That’s why, for once, despite all his training, Tim’s hands failed him…thwarted by a simple belt buckle. 

Conner chuckled huskily and took mercy on him.  He hovered a foot or so off the ground and used his TTK to remove the rest of his clothing in one fell swoop.  Boots, socks, underwear and jeans all flew to the side to join the soaking bundle of black cotton in the corner of the shower.  

“Finally!”  Tim crowed and leapt upwards, hands gripping into Conner’s strong shoulders and legs winding around his waist.

Conner drifted back to the ground and pushed Tim up against the wall, and everything felt heightened while they were under the steady spray of warm water.  Time felt like he could feel every single drop upon his skin along with the perfectly smooth slide of their bodies together.  He dug his teeth into Conner’s neck and sucked hard, reveling the complete absence of the other boys TTK aura as his teeth worried into the skin, knowing this would leave a mark.  It was such an intimate gesture, as sign of Conner’s complete trust in him; his willingness to be wholly vulnerable with Tim. 

Conner moaned as he drove his hips up and forward into Tim’s.  “God, you’re gorgeous, you know that?”  He demanded as he kissed Tim hard.  “You feel so _fucking_ good it hurts.  Every time I’m with you all I can think is ‘why haven’t we always been together like this?’  We wasted so much _time_.”  He dragged his mouth along Tim’s cheek until it was right against his ear, he sucked Tim’s earlobe into his mouth.  “Makes we want to fly back in time and pummel some sense into Past-Conner.” 

Tim panted and pressed his head back against the wall and curled his toes.  Conner was so vocal during sex, always saying things that filled Tim with too many emotions, all them way too intense and in legitimate danger of ripping through his carefully honed defenses.  It made every time achingly vivid.

He turned his head to dislodge Conner’s teeth from his ear and to bring their lips back into kissing range.

“You might want to beat some courage into Past-Tim while you’re at it.”  He said.  “He was already in love with you.  He was always just too scared to admit it to himself, much less say it out loud.”

Conner pulled back from their kissing and stared into Tim’s eyes with a severity that caused Tim to stop taking in breaths.  Conner’s hair was plastered to his forehead, dark as ink, water rolling down along the strands and streaking down face.

“You’ve got me now.”  He whispered, but his tone was firm.  One of his hands skimmed up along Tim’s side.  “You always had me.  It just took us awhile to pull our heads out of our asses and get this right.”

Tim brought both hands to Conner’s face, cupping his jaw.  “Yeah, we figured it out.”

Their next kiss was unrelenting and Tim was pushed even harder against the wall, both of them writhing and thrusting.  Then Conner was doing _that thing_.  That _thing_ where he gripped both of their cocks together in a cocoon of his TTK, sliding them against one another, aura pulsating around them.  It was the most earth-shatteringly amazing thing Tim had ever felt.

“Shit!”  Tim gasped, bring his head down hard onto Conner’s shoulder as each wave of ecstasy crashed over and through him.  

It was almost too much.  It was like being electrocuted; every molecule felt like it was shivering and alive with too much energy.  It was like being unmade and remade with each vibrating stroke and each time a little more of Tim mixed with a little more of Conner; changing them and binding them together.

They both began to move in erratic jerks against each other and then Tim could feel them both coming in convulsing spasms.  Tim breathed out Conner’s name while the other boy bit into the crook of Tim’s shoulder neck.

They didn’t move for a long time.  Conner continued to hold Tim up against the wall and Tim just slumped uselessly forward waiting for his nerves to settle and his mind to reboot.  Finally, Conner turned his head, pressed his face into Tim’s neck and spoke into the skin there.

“Promise me you won’t do that again.  Promise me you’re not gonna run again.”  Conner’s voice broke just a bit.  It was such a sincere plea it made Tim’s lungs drop into his knees.

Tim gripped the back of Conner’s head and pressed a kiss into his soaked hair.  “Promise.”

And he meant it.  He made it a vow.  

Conner just nodded in obvious relief into Tim’s neck.

###

Later, when they’d showered off and dried and were sprawled among the crisp-white bedding of Tim’s bed, they lay on their sides facing one another.  They touched; they spoke of everything and nothing; they just started at one another; they drifted in and out of slumber.  At one point Tim reached out and began tracing a stylized “R” onto Conner’s shoulder with his finger.  Conner’s eyes were closed but he huffed out a laugh and Tim knew he had realized that he was tracing the Robin symbol onto him.  Conner opened his eyes and gave Tim a warm, lazy smile before reaching out and tracing the Superboy shield onto Tim’s shoulder in return. 

“I’m ready.”  Tim whispered.

Conner only frowned in confusion.

“I’m ready to tell everyone.”

Conner lifted his head from the pillow.  “You sure?”

“I’m sure.  I don’t want to hide anymore.  If people don’t like it they can kiss my ass.” 

Conner smiled.  “Cool.  I assume you’ve got a plan.”

Tim smiled back.  “When do I _not_ have a plan?”

“Of course,” Conner chuckled, before pulling Tim in closer and resting his chin atop his head.

Tim kissed the hollow of Conner’s neck.

Tim was full of fear.  He was afraid of losing Conner.  He was afraid of Conner losing him.  He was afraid of what people would say or think about them.  But Tim could carry that fear, he could bear it, because he had Conner; because as cheesy as it sounded, as long as he had Conner he really believed he could handle anything.  He could accept that fear because it _meant_ having Conner, it meant giving himself to Conner.  Tim thought he might finally understand just what it was to be truly brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Couldn't keep them apart much longer. It honestly just didn't feel right for the characters and how they've progressed to drag it out (I definitely thought about it).
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this and didn't hate me too much of the of the angst of the previous main chapter.
> 
> FYI I do have this story plotted out but I am also totally open to suggestions or hearing about characters you want to see more of in interludes and such or plot threads you want more of. I can't make any promises but I'm open to reading and discussing them.
> 
> Much love!
> 
> Up Next: Interlude: Selina

**Author's Note:**

> Up next: The Batfamily comes on scene. Tim and Conner go on a date.


End file.
